


Born to be yours

by zation



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Against all odds, Almost coming in pants, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bestiality, Bisexual Castiel (Supernatural), Blow Jobs, Cas desperate to help him, Cas is desperate for other reasons too, Cas trying to resist Dean's allure, Childish Dean Winchester, Crying During Sex, Cute Dean Winchester, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dean Winchester Hears Voices, Dean alluring him without even knowing it, Dean talking to himself, Dean uses Cas' clothes to jerk off, Dean with a bunny, Dean with a tail, Dean with hooves, Dean's dainty hooves, Deansturbation, Demon Dean, Dry Orgasm, Educated Cas, Falling In Love, Finger Sucking, Flustered Castiel (Supernatural), Fucking, Hard-core Sex, Hurting Dean, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I mean he's a demon so labels are kinda unnecessary, IT'S CUTE AF, M/M, Making Love, Masturbation, Mythical Creatures are real, OOC Dean, POV Castiel (Supernatural), POV Dean Winchester, Pansexual Dean Winchester, Plot With Porn, Professor Castiel (Supernatural), Rune Magic, Sad Dean, Sam and Dean aren't brothers, Self-Lubrication, Sexy Dean Winchester, Slow Burn, Some Humor, Succubus Dean, Succubus Pheromones, Supportive side characters, Tags might be changed/added, Teratophilia, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Unprotected Sex, Virgin Dean Winchester, because this is gonna be long, but if we're gonna label him I'd say pan, but is that really all there is to him???, but they are family-ish, but we're gonna make it fun!, but yknow, down THERE, good morning blow jobs, he's grown up tho, human cas, no birds were harmed during the making of this fic, non-canon demons, not really because it's only Dean who does it for Cas, not really but Dean does practically have a goat body, rawdoggin, sad backstory Dean, sorry to spoil that lol, think old testament demons, wink wonk, zation trying to be sneaky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:28:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29354985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zation/pseuds/zation
Summary: Castiel finds a curious creature in his backyard.Or,The one where Dean wanted an apple but found himself a human instead (and also an apple).
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 289
Kudos: 236





	1. “Everyone always calls me Deanmon.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I’m zation, I make up my own mythology, whatever fits my narrative as I try my damndest to make two fictional characters boink. Hope you enjoy! Okke bye 💖
> 
> If anyone is wondering why I’m calling Dean a succubus despite him clearly being a male it’s because I saw this tumblr post ( _long_ ago) that suggested a succubus is the bottom, no matter the gender, and an incubus is the top, also no matter the gender, and I liked that idea 😄 And since Dean’s _SO_ gonna be the bottom in this one we’re going succubus lol
> 
> Special **trigger warning** for Dean acting very young and innocent (almost so that Cas feels a little pervy, if you’re so inclined) when he’s not actually either one. Also for the fact that Dean’s lower half is animal-like. And yes, they’re gonna have sex despite those things lol  
> Please read all the tags! Only read the fic if it’s something that interests you, you know yourself best!
> 
> (Title is from the song by Kygo & Imagine Dragons [by the same name](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XKt6nYntaOs&ab_channel=TheGoodVibe))
> 
> Shoutout to BeeCas, for keeping up with all my crazy shit! 💖💖💖

There was a lot of evidence that pointed to the fact that the little creature that scampered around Castiel’s backyard was some sort of demon. 

Like how it had double-joined hind legs (covered in straggly, brown fur) that ended in small hooves, to two small, ridged horns that curved back from the creature’s forehead. Or how it wasn’t wearing any clothes despite it being late fall and more than nippy outside, or how sharp its incisors were, almost like fangs. Or how its ears were slightly pointed, or that it didn’t have a belly button.

Yes, all of that pointed to the creature being a subspecies of devils (though they usually had cloven hooves, not rounded like this creature), or at least satyrs, but nothing was as obvious as the creature’s completely black eyes. No white, no iris, no discernable pupil. It was all black, and even though Castiel had been observing the creature for a while, trying to decide if it was indeed a demon despite not looking similar to the ones he had met before, the eyes sealed the deal. 

All demons had black eyes.

Castiel had hesitated for a while, though, since most demons also had black fur, charred skin, and a pointed tail of some sort, neither of which this creature had. Well, it did have a little white and brown tail, almost like a deer’s, but Castiel thought that counted more as a satyr tail than as a demon tail. So, point in favor for the satyrs, right? Except those eyes…

Most demons also had black, leathery wings but the creature seemed to lack that as well, as evidenced by how it was trying (and failing) to climb one of Castiel’s apple trees instead of flying to the top. 

It was getting frustrated, Castiel could see, and he understood why. Castiel had come down to get his morning coffee and while waiting for the nourishing beverage to finish brewing he had gone to look out the bay windows facing his backyard and that was when he had first spotted the creature. Well over twenty minutes ago, and Castiel had no way of knowing for how long it had been trying to climb the tree before he saw it. 

He sipped his coffee slowly, letting it warm him up as he tried to decide what to do with the creature. To be honest, it looked kind of pitiful. Scrawny, even. And judging by how eager it was to get at the old, soggy apples at the top of the tree Castiel suspected it was very hungry. But from what he remembered from his theological studies, demons ate meat, so this was more than a little interesting to him. 

Castiel’s old mentor had always said Castiel possessed an overly curious mind, and that that was both his best and worst quality. Castiel could neither agree nor disagree, since his mind had made him leave his calling as an aspiring priest but had also given him the strength to pursue further religious studies. Castiel had intended to become a priest, or possibly something more, but instead here he was now, after many years of field studies, in his late thirties and a professor of Theology and Cryptozoology at the local university.

This creature was like none Castiel had ever encountered, though, and he felt his curious mind pock at him, eager to see what this could lead to. 

So with that in mind he finished his coffee, grabbed a fresh apple from the bowl on the kitchen counter, and went to find his rosary, just in case. Demons could be tricky to deal with but a cross would almost always help in some way and Castiel was in general a strong-minded person so trickery wouldn’t usually work on him. 

Reminding himself that pride was a sin and that it was a gateway for demons into a person’s heart, Castiel clicked open the patio door that faced the backyard and slipped outside in only his house slippers and a cardigan to shield him from the cold. 

It was instantly noticeable that the creature felt Castiel’s presence. It froze in its tracks and hunched in on itself, lips pulling back in what Castiel guessed was supposed to be a terrifying snarl, its black eyes instantly zeroing in on Castiel. Too bad it looked adorable as all heck like that. Castiel wondered how old the demon was, compared to human years. Demons lived much longer than humans so most likely it was older than Castiel but that didn’t have to mean anything in terms of maturity.

And right about now it looked like a kitten trying to raise its hackles.

“Hey there,” Castiel said slowly and in a low tone. “Are you hungry?”

The creature turned its horned head and looked mournfully up at the few remaining apples. “Yeah,” it rasped, voice a much deeper timber than Castiel had anticipated. “I can’t reach though. Stupid.”

It muttered the last word, almost as if berating itself. Castiel took a few cautious steps closer but stopped when the creature almost immediately whipped its head around and narrowed its eyes at him. 

“I imagine it would be tough to climb trees with hooves,” he stated with a kind smile. His comment made the creature flick down its eyes, regarding its own feet as if it hadn’t thought about that. “In any case you shouldn’t eat those apples, they’ve gone bad. Here,” he held up the apple he’d brought from inside. “Eat this if you’re hungry.”

The creature visibly balked, hissing at him. “I’m not eating anything a _human_ gives me.”

“You think I would poison you?” Castiel asked, saddened. Not so much to be suspected of such a thing but because he knew how true it would be in most instances. Creatures such as this were most often met with distrust and aggression, even though not all were deserving of it. “I’m not.”

The creature’s eyes widened when Castiel took a bite out of the apple, chewing excessively to show how okay the treat was to eat and to his amusement, the creature actually licked its lips. Unlike all demons Castiel had met so far, this creature’s tongue wasn’t forked, and it looked much pinker as it darted out to slide along the creature’s full lips.

Castiel felt the first tendrils of arousal when their fingers met as the creature accepted the apple and he thought that yes, this was definitely some kind of demon, and probably a succubus at that. 

“I’m Castiel,” he said after watching for a while as the creature devoured the apple. “You can call me Cas. What’s your name?”

“Everyone always calls me Deanmon,” the creature said, licking its fingers clean of apple juices. “But I don’t think that’s a name.”

Castiel tilted his head to the side, regarding the creature. That was a very odd thing to call someone, wasn’t it? Even knowing that demons usually had names that were hard to pronounce, it still seemed strange, especially since the creature didn’t even seem to like it. Or maybe he was literally asking if Deanmon could be a name, which seemed even more pitiful than it struggling to scramble up the apple tree.

“Should I just call you Dean, then?”

The creature narrowed its eyes again. “‘M not sure,” it mumbled. “If I give you my name then you have power over me, don’t you?”

Ah, this one was clever, more so than Castiel had given it credit for. He smiled and tightened his cardigan around himself.

“I suppose I would, but since you haven’t given me your real name then I don’t think a nickname would matter. Do you?”

The creature looked thoughtful at that, its fine features seeming sharper in the early morning daylight. 

“Dean,” it said after a moment, tasting the word. “D _ea_ n.”

“It suits you.”

The creature looked up at him, the black of its eyes bleeding away to show incredibly human-looking eyes. Castiel felt so stunned by this (to him) new feature that he couldn’t find words.

“Thank you,” the creature—Dean—flashed him a grin and now Castiel felt even more stumped. A demon that smiled? A demon that was polite? 

“What manner of creature are you?” he breathed, surprise warring with fascination within him.

But apparently that was the wrong thing to ask. Dean’s open face immediately shut off and his eyes reverted back to black so fast it was dizzying. 

“Demon,” he muttered, head bowed in such a submissive display Castiel instantly knew that that wasn’t completely true. 

“You…”

“My mom was a demon, okay?!” Dean shrieked, showing that he most definitely had some kind of demonhood in him when his voice cut through Castiel’s soul, every word laced with magic intended to hurt.

He instinctively reached for his rosary but that was definitely the wrong move. Dean’s eyes cut to the beads and he hissed, his whole being seeming to grow as if he gathered himself for an attack and Castiel knew that if it came to blows, he would be chanceless. Whatever Dean was, he was powerful. 

But then, almost as fast as it had come, everything seemed to seep out of Dean, and he was high tailing it out of Castiel’s yard and into the connecting woods. 

So maybe he hadn’t intended to hurt Castiel? Maybe he wasn’t even mad? Maybe he didn’t know how powerful he was? Maybe he was just a confused and lost soul, who had wandered aimlessly into Castiel’s backyard in search of food, like so many other creatures of the night.

“Demon or not,” Castiel muttered to himself, fingering his rosary. “Color me intrigued.”

*****

It took Dean two days to come back to Castiel.

It was raining and storming that night, even hailing at one point, and Castiel had more than once found himself staring out the back windows, eyes searching for Dean. He didn’t know what had happened or why Dean was alone (what had even brought him up out of the pits of Hell), but he was sure the little demon was still out there and faring ill and it tore at him for some reason. 

He was just about to sit down for dinner when he happened to glance out the bay windows and spotted Dean huddled against the apple tree’s trunk. The demon was curled in on himself, a little ball that Castiel barely would have seen if it hadn’t been for the lightning cracking over the sky at the exact moment he looked out.

“How horror movie-esque,” he muttered to himself and got up to put on his coat and flick on the light in the backyard.

Dean flinched when the sudden light flooded over him and he squinted his black eyes up at Castiel as he approached him. There was minimal hissing for a moment but there was no way Castiel would be scared of Dean right now, not when the demon was sopping wet and clearly miserable. 

“Do you want to come inside?”

Dean eyed the house, clearly wanting to but he was cautious, Castiel could see that a mile away. And why not? It was about survival after all. The storm was horrible but Castiel suspected it couldn’t kill Dean (it wouldn’t kill a regular demon), but Dean didn’t know what was inside. Sure, Castiel probably seemed kind (and perhaps gullible) but he could just as well have exorcism tools inside.

But one huff made Castiel instantly understand why Dean was hesitant to accept his invitation. He grinned (probably too wide because this was a sensitive matter, clearly) and squatted down in front of Dean.

“You’re a demon,” he stated with an overtly obvious tone. “Your mom was a demon so that means you’re a demon too.”

Dean eyed him, black eyes searching Castiel’s face for the lie, and then melting away to give way for a pair of even _more_ searching human eyes. Castiel hadn’t noticed it earlier but Dean had very green eyes, a color not often associated with demons and it was clear to him now that Dean was a half-breed (a Cambion). He had been stupid not to see it before, actually. But during these past two days, Castiel had read up on demons and yes, the notion wasn’t far-fetched at all when he thought about it seriously. 

“Yeah I am,” he stated but it sounded like a question so Castiel nodded for good measure. 

“I have seen many demons and even met some,” Castiel stood again, putting his hands on his hips. “And you’re clearly one.”

This time Dean nodded too, his eyes shining with conviction. “Yeah!”

“So, now that that’s settled, me being a crappy human and all I can’t really stand the rain. Are you sure you don’t want to come inside and keep talking to me?”

Dean considered this for a moment longer, very serious, and Castiel had to pinch himself to stop from chuckling.

“I suppose,” the demon said at length. “If you think it’s too cold? For you.”

“I do.”

He almost reached out to help Dean to his feet (hooves) but stopped himself. This creature clearly had pride and if Castiel wanted to know more about him (and he was dying to), he would have to watch it.

Dean limped a bit as they crossed the lawn but Castiel saw no obvious injuries and from what he could remember Dean had seemed very nimble last they met. He decided that that was another thing he would have to carefully weasel out of the demon because the direct approach didn’t seem like it would be appreciated.

“For the record,” Dean mumbled to the lawn as they walked up to the house. “I don’t think you seem crappy.”

His words surprised Castiel and he opened the door without saying anything, silently letting the demon in and Dean didn’t mention anything more. He seemed a bit shy and that just made Castiel smile wider as he hastily closed the door against the punishing weather outside.

Standing close like this it was made clear that Dean wasn’t as tall as Castiel had perceived him last time. His memory was probably clouded by how huge Dean had seemed in his anger, and Castiel actually smiled to himself as he observed the creature now. Standing straight on his double-jointed legs, Dean reached Castiel to about his shoulders, the creature’s horns protruding up another inch or so but since they were curved rather than pointed straight, it still made him shorter than Castiel. It was cute, which was a very weird thing to think of a (possible) demon but Castiel couldn’t help himself.

Dean looked curiously and openly around Castiel’s house and it felt rather obvious that the creature hadn’t spent a lot of time inside human houses, if at all. His whole body seemed to twitch, as if he wanted to just run around and touch everything to examine it to the fullest, but for some reason he remained by Castiel’s side, just inside the door.

It was fortunate that he did, Castiel thought, because Dean was dripping wet and his hooves were tracking in mud and grass and Castiel wasn’t a neat freak but yuck.

“Stay here,” he said in a tone that made it seem like a suggestion. “I’m going to get you a towel.”

“I’m not cold,” Dean stated immediately, though in this light Castiel could see that the creature’s lips were tinted blue.

“Of course not,” Castiel answered calmly as he walked briskly to his downstairs bathroom. “Demons don’t get cold. Or I mean,” he returned almost immediately with a hand towel to see that Dean hadn’t stayed put at all. He hadn’t wandered far, but he _had_ wandered. “I suppose if it got _really_ cold then maybe you could start shivering a little?”

“Maybe,” Dean mumbled and reached for a picture frame of Castiel and his late mother, only to snatch his hand back. “I wouldn’t know.”

Castiel only hummed in answer, amused by the creature’s pride. He got to his knees in front of Dean and tapped his leg, getting the creature’s attention. For some reason, Dean’s face flushed a bright red and the black of his demon eyes flicked back.

“What are you doing?”

“Helping you dry off,” Castiel said, as if that was an obvious thing to do for someone else. “You’re dirtying my floor.”

Dean flailed for a bit, a few stuttered words coming out, but when Castiel didn’t budge, the creature calmed down. They ended up staring at each other for a while and then Dean gingerly lifted his right hoof. Castiel rewarded him with a wide smile that Dean hesitantly returned, and then he started patting the creature’s hoof and leg.

The small hand towel came away dirty, as Castiel had suspected it would, but he kept at it to at least minimize the wetness. After he was done, he silently moved over to the left leg and then stood to dry off Dean’s upper body too. Dean remained eerily silent throughout and Castiel got the weird feeling that Dean was embarrassed, and not about getting dried off but about making a mess.

“There,” he said when he was satisfied for now. “That’s good enough. You can sit on this towel while we eat and then you can have a bath. Come now, the food’s getting cold.”

As if on cue, Dean’s stomach growled and when Castiel chuckled, Dean grinned shyly up at him. Castiel went to the kitchen to get a plate and cutlery for Dean, and when he came back to the living room, he found the demon curled into a ball, trying to fit on the towel on the floor. The sight stumped him, and he found himself just staring for almost a full minute before Dean noticed he was there and snapped his head up to look at him.

The movement was so sudden the creature almost toppled over, and he hastily put his hand on the floor to right himself, only to quickly bring it back so nothing would touch the floor.

 _“He’s literally sitting on the towel,”_ Castiel thought, stunned. The sight was almost too adorable and Castiel couldn’t help but smile widely. Dean looked at him, confused, and visibly tried to make himself even smaller to fit on the hand towel.

“Dean, sweetie,” he mumbled, feeling less weirded out about calling a demon _sweetie_ than he thought he should. “I meant put the towel on the chair.”

He went to put the plate on the dining table and pulled out one of the chairs, waving his hand to call the creature over. Dean hesitated for a moment and then got up only to gingerly walk over, as if him tiptoeing on his hooves would make him less likely to make a mess. He stopped by the chair, clutching the towel, and looked down at the piece of furniture as if he’d never seen one before.

“I’ve never…” he looked up at Castiel, seemingly helpless. “I’m not allowed to sit on the furniture.”

Castiel’s heart thumped painfully. “Maybe not where you come from,” he said, forcing his tone to remain neutral. “But in my house, you are. As long as you don’t deliberately dirty anything.”

Dean pulled in a shaky breath, produced the wobbliest smile Castiel had ever seen, and carefully draped the towel over the seat before slowly sinking down, black once again bleeding away to show his shining human eyes.

“I like this,” he stated at length. “This feels right.”

“Good,” Castiel said briskly to try and hide how weirdly emotional he felt. “Here’s a plate for you, do you know how to use a knife and fork?”

He pushed the bowl of rice over to Dean when the creature nodded his head. After a short hesitation, Castiel plated Dean’s food for him and then went to get Dean a glass. By the time he got back (not even a minute later), Dean had almost finished his serving of rice and chicken stew.

“Hungry, are we?” Castiel grinned and took it upon himself to serve Dean more food. 

He’d deliberately done more food than he would eat so that he would have left-overs for work but somehow that didn’t seem to matter to him as he watched the creature scarf down the next portion as if he were afraid the food would spontaneously combust if he wasn’t fast enough.

 _“Or as if he’s afraid it’s gonna get taken away,”_ Castiel thought as he slowly ate his own food.

The thought was a sad one but considering how Dean reacted to certain things (and how he was most definitely a half-breed), Castiel could see how easy that could be true. Demons weren’t exactly known for being kind, after all.

He was about half-finished with his own food when Dean was done almost inhaling the rest and the creature started squirming, eyeing Castiel’s plate as well. His demon eyes flicked in and he licked his lips, that sensual tongue sneaking out and drawing Castiel’s attention.

“Did you like the food?” he asked and watched with fascination how Dean swayed forward in his seat but then seemed to reel himself in.

He produced a big grin, showing off all his strangely white and sharp teeth, and nodded vigorously.

“It was sweet.”

“Sweet?” Castiel chuckled. “Because of the mango chutney, I suppose,” he smiled when Dean just looked at him, expression open. “Are you full?”

“Ah,” Dean looked almost scared all of a sudden and he ducked his head, black eyes weirdly sad. “Yes,” he mumbled to his lap.

“That’s too bad,” Castiel said and put down his fork, pushing his plate away a little. “Because I am too, I couldn’t possibly finish this. I guess we’ll have to throw it out, then.”

Dean’s head snapped up and he stared at Castiel with wide eyes. “Um…”

“Yes?”

Oh Castiel enjoyed this too much, he knew that. But Dean was fascinating and for all of Castiel’s years of research, he hadn’t spent very much time with the cryptids he’d devoted his life to studying, and even less so with theological creatures. And even so, Dean was a rarity and Castiel couldn’t wait to learn more about him.

“I guess I could eat it…?” Dean cleared his throat and obviously tried to compose himself so he would look imposing. “So you won’t have to throw it away.”

“How noble of you,” Castiel exclaimed, fake impressed (though Dean didn’t seem to catch the nuance of his voice). “You’re a good guy, Dean.”

That made Dean puff out his chest and beam at Castiel as he gingerly pulled over Castiel’s plate. He took a few bites but then stopped, seemingly realizing something. His brow pulled tight and he frowned down at the food.

“I’m a demon, though,” he stated but didn’t say anything more and it took a moment for Castiel to piece together what had upset the creature.

“Well,” he said, casual. “I meant good for a demon, obviously.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, looking up with eyes shining with conviction. “Yeah.”

“Obviously,” Castiel repeated and stood up to start gathering the dishes. “Now finish that and bring the plate to the kitchen when you are done.”

It took Castiel two trips between the dining table and kitchen counter to clear all the dishes and by the time he was finished so was Dean. The creature waited for him in the kitchen, plate in hand and face smeared with chicken stew.

Castiel shook his head, feeling a strange fondness come over him, and he instructed Dean on how to fill the dishwasher (which he did an atrocious job of, but very proudly so) while he finished up in the kitchen, wiping down the counter. Dean hissed at the dishwasher when it started up its program but seemed okay with it when Castiel didn’t react and he followed obediently when Castiel beckoned him upstairs.

His hooves made soft thumping sounds on the carpet in Castiel’s house and the sound made a chill go up Castiel’s spine. Despite his eyes, horns, and sharp teeth, Dean seemed rather human, but one look at his bottom half erased all doubts and even though this wasn’t the first time Castiel had had a mythological creature or animal in his house, it was definitely the first time he’d invited a demon, even if Dean were only half of one. The power Dean had emanated when Castiel angered him on their first meeting came to mind and Castiel wondered briefly where he’d put his rosary. In his nightstand, he thought, but forced the thought to the side when he looked over his shoulder at Dean, who instantly looked up at him, attentive.

Dean could definitely be dangerous, Castiel had no doubt about that, but he somehow felt certain that Dean would rather run away than hurt him. It was of course foolish of him to think like that, just like one would be foolish to try and raise a wolf as a pet dog, but Castiel couldn’t shake the image of Dean’s gratefulness as he was allowed to sit on a chair and eat until he was truly full.

“Here’s the thing,” Castiel said as he pushed open the door to his upstairs bathroom. “There’s still a storm outside so I thought it would make me happy if you agreed to stay inside here with me.”

Dean walked around the bathroom, his hooves making a sound loud enough that he startled himself when he walked off the rug and onto the tiled floor. At Castiel’s words, he stopped and looked thoughtful for a moment.

“To protect you?”

Castiel had to bite the inside of his cheek. “Yes. I would feel much safer knowing you were inside the house.”

Dean nodded, expression very somber. “I can see that. I guess it’s okay. For tonight.”

“Yes,” Castiel agreed, smiling despite trying to remain serious. “Of course. Anyway, I have a standard about cleanliness, remember?”

Dean nodded again, more eagerly now. “Sit on the towel.”

“Amongst other things,” Castiel mumbled, still smiling, and rolled up his sleeves. “With that in mind, get in the tub.”

Dean’s head swiveled around as he tried to locate the object Castiel was talking about, but it was very evident that he didn’t know what a tub was. Castiel didn’t care what Dean was in that moment, he was too adorable for Castiel to not feel his heart swell with affection.

But when he stepped up to the creature and touched his elbow, Dean jerked, hissing at Castiel with black eyes and Castiel’s heart thumped for a whole other reason. They both stalled and ended up just standing there, staring at each other like they had done before dinner.

Dean’s body was warm, the heat from him radiating and pulling Castiel closer. For a second time, Castiel considered the possibility of Dean being part succubus and when Dean’s eyes flicked back to human, pupils slightly dilated, Castiel got the sudden urge to kiss him. It made him come to his senses and he stepped back, pressing out a smile.

“I meant this,” he said and gestured to the innocent tub. “This is where we wash off.”

“It’s very white,” Dean stated after inspecting the porcelain from a ridiculously close distance.

“That’s because I wash it off after I’ve used it,” Castiel said absentmindedly, distracted by the shower head as he tried to adjust the temperature to what he thought Dean would like.

“You seem to like to clean a lot,” Dean said then, his tone suggesting a question within the statement. “Is that a human thing?”

“I suppose,” Castiel smiled. “Now sit down.”

It only struck Castiel as odd that he was cleaning Dean off when he was about half-way through it. Come to think of it, why had he even helped the creature with cleaning off his hooves? Dean was more than capable and with little to no instruction he most certainly could have done all of this himself. But Castiel wanted to and Dean didn’t seem to mind, and that was the truth of it.

Castiel only filled the tub about a quarter and had to drain the water once only to refill it before Dean was clean enough. The fur on his legs had been matted with dirt but as Castiel scrubbed him, the fur got glossier and smoother and even a little lighter in color, closer to Dean’s hair color. It was truly beautiful and Castiel found himself caressing the impressive leg muscles for longer than was necessary or even appropriate.

With the fur smoothed down by the water, Dean’s genitals got more obvious and Castiel found himself strangely fascinated with them as well. The creature’s balls were round and small, covered in fur and tucked close to his body, and above them was the sheath that covered his dick. That, too, was covered in fur but it was much lighter and Castiel could see the slit from where Dean’s dick would protrude when aroused. Castiel knew as much from once observing full demons having the most debauched sex he had ever witnessed. It had left him somewhat disturbed but here, in his own bathroom and with Dean splashing leisurely in his tub, Castiel found himself nothing but fascinated.

And possibly a little aroused but he was steadfastly not thinking about that, nor about the fact that he wanted to touch Dean until the creature’s dick came out. Succubus indeed.

“There we go,” he said when he was satisfied with Dean’s state of cleanliness. Rising to his feet, Castiel realized he was almost as wet as the creature. Damnit, he should have undressed too… “I think we can be content with that, let’s get you out of there and dried off.”

Dean nodded eagerly and got to his hooves, only to slip and tumble out of the tub, barely escaping hitting his head on the floor only because Castiel managed to catch him.

“Careful,” he mumbled, feeling how Dean’s heart thumped wildly. 

He held the creature close when it seemed like Dean didn’t want to let go, and it was only then that he noticed that the dark splotches on Dean’s skin that he had first mistaken for dirt and then shadows were actually bruises.

Their colors were slightly off, not as yellowish or purple like human bruises got, but a darker color. But looking this closely it was still obvious that Dean had been abused. Sure, some of them he could have gotten after falling (like out of an apple tree, for instance), but not all of them, some had to be hand-made or possibly from the force of some kind of some blunt object. The reason for Dean’s behavior and overall sudden appearance in Castiel’s backyard poked at Castiel’s mind but he decided to hold off questions until Dean seemed more stable. And judging from how he was shaking from this almost-tumble, Castiel didn’t think Dean was the least stable right now.

“Are you okay?”

That made Dean snap to attention and he stumbled away, pushing off Castiel’s hands. “Of course I am,” he snarled, black demon eyes squinting angrily at Castiel but Lord help him, Castiel wasn’t the least frightened. “I’m a demon, demons don’t get scared.”

The droop of his little tail told another story but Castiel decided to overlook that, just as he overlooked the fact that he wasn’t the one who had brought up Dean being scared. Instead, he silently got Dean a towel and started removing his wet clothes as Dean did a poor job of drying himself off.

With a sigh, Castiel turned to help the creature but he couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed. Not when Dean peeked up at him, nose twitching as he scented Castiel when he got closer.

Castiel startled badly when he suddenly felt Dean’s warm hands on his torso, and he looked down at the creature with big eyes.

“You’re pretty fit,” Dean commented lightly. “For a human.”

“Dean…”

“I always thought humans were frail. That’s…” he looked up, face much more expressive than Castiel suspected Dean knew himself. “That’s what I heard.”

“We are,” Castiel murmured, tone low and sweet. “So be careful with me, okay?”

Dean nodded, serious. “Okay.”

They both stopped moving then, Dean held close by Castiel and the creature’s hands still on Castiel’s chest. Dean was so warm, his skin and fur soft and smooth, and his eyes shining with something unspoken. Castiel opened his mouth to say something, _anything_ , and Dean’s eyes flicked down to Castiel’s lips, sticking there a moment too long. Was he even aware what he was doing to Castiel?

Castiel suspected not, and that was the only reason he found strength enough to pull away. Demon, creature, or human, Castiel could never bear to hurt any living creature other than in self-defense and Dean seemed to him like someone to protect rather than harm.

“Come on, let’s finish up here and go watch some TV.”

Dean seemed endlessly fascinated with the concept of television and they spent a long time on the couch as Dean flipped through every channel, asking so many questions Castiel felt all dried up on knowledge by the time Dean’s eyes started drooping.

He pulled out blankets and an extra pillow so he could set Dean up to sleep on the couch and then went to brush his teeth and go to bed. He couldn’t really sleep, of course, mind wandering with what to do with Dean, if he had to do anything at all. Where was Dean even from and did he need to return? Castiel’s mind overflowed with questions that he hoped he would have time to ask Dean later, though he did worry in the dead of night that he would wake up in the morning to find the creature gone. It was a very real possibility and as Castiel listened to the storm raging outside his bedroom window, he prepared himself for the risk of never seeing Dean again.

He hadn’t been asleep more than a few minutes when there was a timid knock on his bedroom door. He jerked his head up from the pillow, groggy and disoriented for a moment. He was so used to being alone in his house that a spike of fear induced adrenaline went through him for a second, before he remembered the little creature he had invited into his home. And now, room shrouded in darkness, he considered for the first time that that might have been a stupid move on his part.

He sat up in his bed, eyeing his nightstand, before (irrationally) deciding against getting his rosary.

“Come in,” he called, once again amazed at how polite Dean was, for a demon.

Dean shuffled in, hands behind his back. “I was just thinking…” he mumbled, walking right up to Castiel’s bed. “Since you’re just a human and all, maybe you were… maybe you were scared of the thunder?”

Castiel’s heart clenched so hard he felt dizzy.

“Thank you for bringing it up,” he choked out and flipped his comforter to the side. “I didn’t want to say it myself, but it _would_ feel better for me if you slept in here with me.”

Dean’s whole body swayed forward but he seemed to stop himself. Castiel wished he had turned on his bedside lamp so he could see Dean’s face.

“I mean… if you really need it?”

“I think I do, actually. I would feel protected knowing you were close.”

He tried _so hard_ to keep his face neutral, knowing Dean most probably could see in the dark, but it was a hard-fought battle. Hearing this, Castiel could barely believe that he had considered bringing out his cross and rosary.

“I guess you can’t help it,” Dean stated at length, sounding long-suffering, and climbed in bed with Castiel. “You’re only human, after all.”

“That I am,” Castiel agreed in a mumbled, pulling the comforter over the both of them as he settled on his back, Dean curled against his right side. “That I am.”


	2. “You’re a very good demon, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all SO MUCH for the overwhelmingly awesome support! I'm incredibly happy you liked the start to this fic 💖💖💖  
> Now, in this chapter we get to see Dean's POV, to get some insight in what's going on in his mind. Please remember to heed all the tags and stay safe! 😄  
> Much love to you all from your zation 💖

Deanmon—Dean!—woke up the next morning feeling warm and…

(Safe)

Yes! Sammy was right, Dean was safe here!

(You’re such a fool, _Deanmon_ )

Dean squeezed his eyes shut against Sammy’s icy tone. He wasn’t Deanmon anymore, he _wasn’t_. Didn’t want to be. Could choose to be anyone he wanted. Wanted to be _Dean_.

He waited with bated breath for a moment but when nothing came, he cautiously opened his eyes and looked around the room. It was Cas’ bedroom; nothing had changed since last night. Except that it was brighter, though Dean with his demon eyes didn’t note much of a difference regarding that.

Lifting his head gingerly revealed that Cas was still sleeping, and that Dean was curled around him.

(So helpless)

Yes, Cas was really a helpless creature, wasn’t he? Not like Dean. Dean snuggled in closer, hugging Cas’ side and vowing to protect the human.

(Wow, protecting humans now, are we?)

Dean thought about that for a moment and the more he mulled Sammy’s words over he realized the folly in them. He was a demon, after all, he shouldn’t be protecting humans. He should be harming them. Do unspeakable things to them and throw away their tattered corpses.

Dean rose to sit on his hip, leaned on one hand as he looked down at Cas’ calm face. His straight nose and pink lips. His scruffy cheeks and closed eyelids.

Only, Dean didn’t know what those unspeakable things were supposed to be.

(Guess that’s why they’re _un_ speakable, huh?)

Dean wasn’t sure that was true but in any case, he didn’t feel like harming Cas right now. He supposed he would have to do it at one point, being a demon and all. But maybe not just yet. Maybe he could do it on a day when Cas was at least awake or maybe when he’d been mean? Cas so far had only been nice.

(As if you have any bearing on what nice is)

“Shut up, shut up, shut _up_ ,” Dean hissed and rolled out of bed as slowly and quietly as he could, as not to awake Cas.

The human moved around some but didn’t otherwise stir to consciousness and Dean felt satisfied with that, slipping out of the bedroom a moment later.

Walking around Cas’ home, Sammy wouldn’t shut up for a second, but Dean didn’t think that was so odd. Sammy had always been a studious one and Cas’ house had so many new things to look at. Small squares with Cas in them with other people, books, thinner and floppier books, furniture that were both soft and hard. And that impressive thing Cas had called “TV”. Dean liked that the most and he ended up standing in front of its black surface for a long time, trying to figure out how to make it show him the things he’d watched with Cas.

He recalled Cas using something he had named “remote” and went to the couch to see if he could find it. But he only found the rumpled mess of the bed Cas had made for him. Looking at it now, Dean felt bad for not using it, but the storm last night had been really bad, and Cas could have been really scared!

(Keep telling yourself that, little Deanmon)

Dean would.

Looking outside now, it seemed as if the storm had never been there in the first place. The sky was clear, and the only evidence was a lot of leaves around Cas’ backyard and a lot less up on the trees. Dean suddenly felt less hot—

(Cold)

—and he turned back to the couch, wanting to snuggle down under the blankets. Or better yet… he turned his head in the direction of the stairs, thinking of Cas’ body heat. But there was no storm now, was there? So Cas didn’t need protecting and he had made the couch for Dean to sleep on, so he better do that.

(Should you, though?)

Dean frowned down at the couch.

“Cas said I could sleep here.”

(You’re not allowed on the furniture, Deanmon)

“But Cas _said_ I could,” Dean clenched his fists, demon eyes flicking away to give way for his other eyes, the ones that gave everything color. “Cas said—”

(That human said you could sit on the furniture _if_ …?)

Dean thought hard for a moment. “If I didn’t make a mess,” he patted his hands down his thighs and flattened his fur. “And I’m clean.”

(Are you, though? Are you _sure_ you didn’t make any messes during the night?)

Dean’s face flushed with heat and his demon eyes flicked back, making everything appear black and gray again.

“I haven’t done that in a long time,” he whispered. Sammy remained quiet and that was almost worse.

But Dean _knew_ he hadn’t made a mess in Cas’ bed or he would have noticed when he woke up. When Dean was younger, he used to do that all the time, and he got beat up a lot for it. Demons didn’t need to-to… _expel_ in that way. Their waste was assimilated, turned into energy, they simply didn’t _need_ to relieve themselves and if Dean did, then that meant he wasn’t a demon, didn’t it? But Dean was too a demon and he had learnt, over the years, how the other demons managed their waste, what magic to use and how to use it subconsciously.

And anyway, by the time he came to live with Sammy he had already learned that, and he’d never told the other demon about that time in his life so how would Sammy even know about it? Dean shook his head to rid himself of uncomfortable thoughts.

“I’m _not_ messy,” he muttered and scratched his stomach. It rumbled and he sighed at it. He wasn’t messy but he sure was hungry. That was a demon trait for sure and Dean would have wholeheartedly embraced it if it weren’t for how annoying it was.

Since he came to live on Earth some 25 years ago, he’d gotten used to being hungry, though. The other demons hadn’t fed him, but he’d always managed to pick scraps that they left behind. Sammy _did_ feed him, even if it was the poorer cuts, and Dean had lived rather well with the other demon.

But after Sammy was killed and Dean was shunned from Hell Dean had gone hungry almost every day. He wouldn’t trade it, though. He hadn’t known before, since he’d had nothing to compare to, but walking up here had quickly made him realize that his time in Hell had been literal hell. Dean hadn’t known the word “happy” existed for the first few decades of his life. Then Sammy had taught him to read and he’d come to understand that there was an existence where one wasn’t feeling like he did.

“Happy” seemed far-fetched, though, and Dean hadn’t much concerned himself with it, until he came topside. He wasn’t sure, but he thought sunlight made him “happy”. And eating things that weren’t rotten or raw made him “happy”.

He glanced at the stairs again. Maybe Cas made him “happy”?

(You’re such a pitiful creature, Deanmon)

Dean heaved a sigh and decided that maybe he should try and find some water. He didn’t know where to find food, but water was good enough when he was hungry. It could put off that dizzy feeling for a while, at least. And if he recalled correctly, Cas had produced water out of a nozzle when he had cleaned off Dean in that room upstairs.

With that in mind, he gingerly climbed the stairs again, conscious of the sound his hooves made on Cas’ floor. He hadn’t really thought about them before, mostly since he was born this way and for all the differences between him and the other demons, the hooves were similar enough. But coming up here made Dean realize that there were a lot of other ways to look and for a few years Dean had mostly amused himself with watching other creatures. Especially humans amused him. Humans and cats. Sometimes Dean wished he had cat paws instead of hooves. They just seemed more practical.

(You’re so stupid. If you’d wish to look like anything else, it should be to look like a human so you could blend in. Even an idiot could see that’s the smarter choice)

Sammy was of course right and Dean was an idiot. But he still liked cat paws. They had little beans under their feet that were soft to the touch and some cats liked it when you touched those beans, and some cats didn’t. It was amusing.

After some poking around in the room it stood clear to Dean that he didn’t really know how to make the water come out.

(Guess you should’ve paid more attention, Deanmon)

Sammy had always said that.

But Dean found water in a white chair with a lid that came off. He kneeled in front of it and put his head down it. It was further down that he thought, and the position was uncomfortable. Maybe you were supposed to use a ladle?

“Dean?”

(Oh shit, you’re in for it now!)

Dean ripped his head out of the chair so fast he hit his horns on the edge. It made something on the chair smack harshly and Dean cowered against the wall opposite the chair, staring up at Cas with eyes that displayed everything in full color.

But Cas didn’t look angry. He looked… concerned? Dean wasn’t used to seeing that emotion, but he thought that was what it looked like. Come to think of it, Cas often looked like that when he looked at Dean.

(Because he thinks you’re weak)

Dean shot to his hooves, trying to straighten to seem taller than he was. “Hi Cas.”

Cas took a few steps into the room, reaching for Dean. “Are you okay? Did you hit your head?”

(Demons don’t get hurt)

“It’s fine. I’m a demon and—”

“Demons are strong, I get it,” Cas smiled gently down at him and Dean felt that flutter in his chest that he’d felt ever since Cas’ first smile. Cas had very straight teeth. “But the seat of the toilet can be unforgiving, humor me for a moment.”

Oh so _that_ was a toilet. Dean had heard a lot about them over the years, but he hadn’t figured out what one was. Well, it hadn’t been like he’d had anyone he could ask so that was probably why. Come to think of it, Dean didn’t even know why he dared talk to Cas when he hadn’t dared approach any human before him.

Not that Dean was afraid of humans, he was a demon after all. It was just that humans were unpredictable—

(Scary)

—and most humans would be frightened by his appearance alone and some would be hostile. Sammy had told him all about humans’ ability to exorcise demons back to Hell and Dean did _not_ want to go back there. The other demons had made it clear that they would kill him if he returned. Why they hadn’t just up and killed him then and there was still a mystery that eluded him.

(They were probably all sated after killing me)

That’s right. Sammy had died that day and it had been gruesome. Horrible to watch.

(I didn’t die for you, though)

Or maybe he had?

(Or maybe I did, I guess we’ll never know now)

Dean remained still as Cas walked over to him, hands gentle and soft as he examined Dean’s head, presumably for bumps. It was a bit redundant, considering it had been Dean’s horns that had hit the toilet, but Dean didn’t say anything, mostly because he liked Cas’ hands on him. It made him warm inside and he felt squirmy, like he wanted to stand even closer to Cas. Maybe when the human was naked again, like he had been last night in this room. Dean wished that Cas had slept naked. Humans’ need for clothes was stupid, Dean thought now, for perhaps the first time.

“Well, everything seems okay,” Cas said after a moment, his voice a little rough, and Dean couldn’t help but beam up at him.

“See? I’m sturdy.”

“That you are,” Cas chuckled. Another thing that Dean liked about the man, his various sounds. “Now, do you want to tell me why you were half-way down the toilet?”

Cas said it in such a tone that it was made clear to Dean it wasn’t a common occurrence to find someone with their head in the toilet. It made him embarrassed but thankfully Sammy was quiet. He was quieter when Cas was around, Dean had noticed last night.

“I, um, I was thirsty and…”

At that moment Dean’s stupid stomach decided to growl _loudly_. Dean’s face flushed hot with shame and he pinched his lips shut, staring straight at Cas as the human obviously tried not to laugh.

“And hungry, I assume?” he pressed out, voice full of amusement.

“‘S fine,” Dean mumbled to the floor, shifting from hoof to hoof. “I—”

He abruptly cut himself off when Cas took his hand. The human’s hand was big and warm, and it made a tingle go through Dean’s arm.

(You’re pathetic, Deanmon)

That was the second time Sammy had called him pathetic today but somehow the impact was less this time.

“Listen to me, Dean,” Cas said, tone firm but kind. “We don’t drink the water in the toilet, that’s for body waste. Now, if you’re ever hungry or thirsty you go to the kitchen. Come here and let me show you.”

He led Dean downstairs by the hand and Dean couldn’t help how his tail twitched happily, his grip on the human’s hand probably harder than necessary.

“This is the kitchen,” Cas stated when they were once again in the room where Cas had shown Dean how to stow away the dishes last night.

“I know that,” Dean smiled and was only a little sad to let go of Cas’ hand.

(Get a grip, Deanmon, you’re not a child)

“Well, did you also know that this is a fridge?” Cas asked and opened a white door, only to reveal shelf after shelf of food and boxes and bottles. “And that this is where I store food?”

Dean couldn’t help the wondrous expression that came over him. He walked closer, feeling cold emanate from the shelves and he tentatively reached out to touch a package of meat.

“This is awesome!” he exclaimed, making Cas chuckle. He whipped his head up when Castiel closed the door, feeling the warmth of the room envelop him again and somehow missing the cold, even though he was used to much warmer climates.

“You have to keep the door closed or the food will spoil,” Cas explained and walked over to a cupboard. “In the fridge we keep perishable food, food that can’t be left out too long in room temperature or it will become inedible, at least for humans. And in here,” he opened the little door for Dean to see even more shelves stocked with boxes and cans. This wasn’t as cold as the fridge, but it was just as well-organized. “This is the pantry, this is where we keep non-perishables. Food that keeps longer.”

“Humans think of everything,” Dean mumbled, changing his vision so he could observe the multitude of colors on the boxes, and the lettering.

Dean could read human languages, though he understood them better when spoken, but he wasn’t so sure about all these words. Some seemed like mysteries to him and he wasn’t so sure he would dare eat them until he knew for sure what it was. Maybe Cas would teach him, if Dean asked nicely.

(Nicely)

Dean ignored Sammy and his crude tone.

“Now,” Cas stated and closed the pantry again, going back to the fridge. “If you want something cool to drink you look in the fridge, but don’t drink out of the carton or bottle, that’s unsanitary.”

“Use a glass?” Dean asked and was rewarded with Cas’ pleased smile. “I know because we used glasses last night.”

Cas raised his hand as if he were about to strike or pet Dean’s head but then seemed to think differently about it and put it on his hip instead.

“That’s correct. Very good, Dean.”

(He was going to hit you)

Dean wasn’t so sure he was.

“And we eat on plates,” Dean informed Cas prudently, making the human chuckle. Dean liked that sound.

“That’s right. And the food both here,” he tapped the fridge. “And in the pantry, are mostly uncooked. Although I suppose as a demon you would have no problem eating raw meat and the like.”

“No,” Dean thought about it for a moment. Thought about memories of eating putrid and green meat, the pieces even the hellhounds wouldn’t touch. “But I prefer it cooked. It tastes better.”

“That it does,” Cas smiled widely, making Dean beam up at him. “That it certainly does. Now, let’s see if we can’t make ourselves some breakfast, huh?”

Dean had a great time helping Cas make omelets and toast, though he supposed he was mostly in the way. Cas didn’t reprimand him once, though, not even when Dean accidentally dropped an egg and it broke on the floor. Dean had been so prepared to get hit then, he’d just stood there with his eyes closed and waited for it, all tense and with Sammy laughing cruelly at him.

But Cas had simply made a surprised sound, stooped down to mop up the mess, asked if Dean was okay, and given him a damp rag to finish cleaning the floor while Cas went back to whisking the other eggs. Dean had felt like crying but he hadn’t, of course, since he was a demon and demons didn’t cry, not for any reason. Ever.

*****

The next day Cas had them wake up early to the sound of a horrible beeping. Dean was so angry—

(Scared)

—that he almost fallen off the bed.

He got to his hooves in a flash, eyes black and sharp fangs bared, energy sparking in his palms as he prepared to fight off the attack. Prepared, as it were, to defend Cas and the little nest Dean had made of the bed.

“Dean,” Cas’ voice came to Dean through the fog of his gathering magic. “Dean, please calm down.”

Dean tried; he really did. But the beeping didn’t stop, and Dean wanted it to _stop_.

(You should attack)

Sammy was right and Dean needed to lash out. Needed to hurt and destroy and—

“Dean, _please_.”

Cas’ hand on Dean’s arm was cool and it snapped him out of his frenzy so fast he almost felt dizzy.

“Cas?”

“Hey,” Cas’ face swam before Dean’s eyes, the human’s smile small and uncertain. “Are you with me?”

“What’s happening?”

Cas sighed and let go of Dean to turn away. He did something that made the beeping stop and Dean sagged down against the bed, his sensitive ears still stinging.

“It was the alarm clock, I told you about this yesterday.”

“Oh.”

(You’re so horribly stupid, Deanmon)

Sammy was laughing as if he’d known all along what was happening. And yet he had spurred on Dean’s unnecessary display of power. Sometimes Dean really hated Sammy.

(No you don’t)

No he didn’t. He’d loved Sammy as much as a demon could love someone, the other demon being as close to family as a demon could have, but that didn’t mean Dean had to like every little thing Sammy said or did. And he didn’t appreciate being made a fool.

“Are you okay? You really scared me.”

Now Dean felt ashamed for real. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I was…” he kind of wanted to tell the truth but to tell the truth in this moment would mean admitting he wasn’t really all that demon-like. And he _was_ , usually. “Surprised.”

“It’s okay,” Cas smiled again and this time it seemed steadier. “But I’m still a bit startled. I could use a hug, to be honest.”

Dean’s whole body lurched forward before he stopped himself short, reeling back as he tried to control the fluttering in his chest.

“I suppose, if… if _you_ really need it.”

“I do,” Cas grinned widely now, opening his arms, and Dean quickly squirmed into the man’s embrace. “It makes me feel better, being a silly human and all.”

“Not silly,” Dean mumbled, face pressed against the crook of Cas’ neck and his tail twitching happily.

“You’re kind to indulge me,” Cas chuckled and patted the back of Dean’s head. “Now I need a shower and some coffee, do you want to try and make some for me?”

Dean would honestly like to take a shower with Cas, but Cas had been adamant yesterday that they shower separately so Dean nodded.

(It’s because he thinks you’re disgusting to look at)

Making coffee for Cas unsupervised for the first time would be fun too, Dean thought as he tumbled out of bed and trotted down the stairs. Cas had shown him twice yesterday how the machine worked, and Dean liked the sounds the machine made as it mulled over the water and beans, making the dark liquid Cas enjoyed so much.

After breakfast Cas spent some time reading papers and sometimes writing on them. He also used what he explained was a computer and Dean got to surprise the man by telling him he already knew of computers. He didn’t tell Cas that he didn’t know what computers were for or how they worked, but Cas seemed impressed enough and Dean preened happily at the man’s wide smile.

Time was approaching noon, as indicated by Dean’s growling stomach, and Dean was in the living room painstakingly reading a book he’d picked out from Cas’ impressive collection when there was a sound from the front door.

Dean’s head snapped up and his demon eyes instantly flooded his gaze with black and gray, only broken by splotches of heat radiating from various places in Cas’ house. And from the door, there was someone there. Someone not him or Cas.

(A threat)

Dean bounced off the couch, calling on his innate magic, fangs bared in a silent snarl but oh, there was Cas. Cas! Cas was closer to the door than Dean!

“It’s okay, Dean,” Cas’ voice swam through the haze of Dean’s agitation. He could hear the fear in the human’s voice and realized now for the first time that Cas had been scared of him this morning too.

Dean deflated, his colored gaze coming out just as someone walked through the front door.

“Cas?” he wanted to ask about the fear. Didn’t Cas know Dean would never hurt him?

(Why not, though?)

That was a… very valid and disconcerting question. Dean slumped down on the couch again, confused. Meanwhile, Cas went to meet the person at the door and that tore at Dean too. He didn’t feel well, and he wanted Cas to be concerned for him but he couldn’t ask for it because that would be weak, wouldn’t it?

(That’s right)

Sammy usually knew best.

Suddenly a very flustered human woman came into the living room, clearly walking as if she owned the place, comfortable in Cas’ house in a way Dean instantly disliked. Her heart-shaped face was twisted in a mask of annoyance and she stopped with a huff, hands on her round hips.

“I can’t believe you stood me up, Clarence.”

“I’m sorry,” Cas sounded more amused than contrite. “I’ve been occupied.”

She rolled her eyes and rounded on Cas when he came to stand beside her. “Never mind, I can forgive you for missing brunch if you give me a little something right now.”

With that, she put her hands on his chest and stood on her tiptoes, pressing her lips to Cas’. He reacted with a surprised sound, hands going to her elbows. But he didn’t immediately push her off and the sight stung inside Dean. He didn’t know why, and he didn’t know what that sting meant but he knew for sure that seeing someone else kiss Cas _hurt_.

(You should kill her)

Dean wanted to, in that moment.

But then Cas’ eyes shifted over to Dean and he made a dismissive sound, now at last pushing her off.

“Meg, not now.”

That wasn’t what Dean wanted to hear, but he supposed it would have to do.

“What?” she asked, clearly annoyed. Dean’s stomach churned unpleasantly, and he didn’t think it was from hunger at all.

“We have company,” Cas mumbled and nodded to Dean, but he didn’t come over to the couch or step away from that woman. Meg, or whatever.

(Whatever)

“Oh I’m sorry,” she said, surprised, and turned to the couch. “I didn’t realize—what the hell is _that_?”

Dean stiffened, feeling his cheeks heat up and his demon eyes coming out in defense to her scathing tone. He bowed his head when she walked closer.

“This is Dean,” Cas said, his tone suggesting that he didn’t appreciate her reaction.

(Don’t fool yourself, Deanmon)

No Sammy was right, Dean shouldn’t read his own emotions into Cas’ words. Just because he wanted the man to defend him didn’t mean he would. Also, Dean was a demon, he should defend himself. With that in mind, he raised his head when she came to stand in front of him. Damnit, he should have stood up too, even though he still would have been shorter than her.

“Okay,” she said slowly, pulling on the word. “And what is it?”

Dean bristled, flashing his fangs. “I’m a demon,” he stated confidently. “I live here.”

“No you don’t,” she snorted incredulously and turned to Cas, clearly not intimidated by Dean’s claims. “You didn’t have a creature living with you last time I was here.”

“ _Demon_ ,” Dean hissed, getting to his feet now but was largely ignored by the woman.

Cas sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “But now I do,” he answered calmly. “There was a storm on Saturday, remember? And as we _both_ know; I’m scared of thunder. So I asked Dean to stay here with me for a while.”

Meg’s eyebrows shot to her hairline. “You’re not scared of thunder.”

“Yes he is,” Dean flicked in, smug that he knew something she didn’t. Guess she wasn’t as cool as she thought she was, with her kissing and familiar touches. “Didn’t you know?”

That, unexpectedly, didn’t make her back off. Instead, she laughed right in Dean’s face.

“Cas isn’t scared of thunder, you little shit. He—”

She was interrupted when Cas stepped up to her, grabbing her arm lightly to get her attention. “Yes I am, Meg,” he said, voice low and imploring as his eyes searched hers. “I’ve always been afraid of thunder and what it can do to a person who’s outside, unprotected. _Right_?”

She visibly balked but stayed silent for a moment, kind of just staring at Cas. Dean looked between them, uncomfortable with how close they seemed.

(She’s a threat)

Sammy’s voice sounded urgent.

(She needs to be removed)

Dean agreed but at the same time he thought he shouldn’t agree.

(Cas is yours)

Why was Sammy in favor of Cas all of a sudden? The change made Dean suspicious and he suspected the other demon just wanted to make Dean kill something. He’d often said that when they lived down in Hell. That Dean was too soft and that he ought to kill something soon. Dean didn’t want to. Maybe Deanmon would want to, or _should_ want to. But Dean was Dean now, and he thought Cas might not want Dean to kill.

“Right,” Meg finally conceded, tone still suggesting that she didn’t quite believe it.

“Yeah,” Dean said loudly, voice too shrill for his own liking. “Maybe you don’t know him as well as you think?” he didn’t even know who she was, only that she was disrupting their bubble and that he wanted her gone, especially before Sammy made him do something Cas would dislike.

“Oh please,” she snorted, tone superior. “I’ve known him for years and we’ve had sex regularly. How well do _you_ know him?”

That made Dean falter. The thought that Cas and this woman didn’t only kiss but also had sex stung even worse than the sight of the kiss had. Dean knew a lot about sex, demons had no modesty in that regard, but he had never engaged in it with someone else and he felt juvenile in a way he was unfamiliar with. It made him uncomfortable.

“I’ve almost seen him naked too,” he mumbled to the floor and Meg laughed at him again.

“Pathetic.”

Yes, Dean was really pathetic, wasn’t he? Ugly with his hooves and horns, so unlike a proper human female with their round shapes and flowy hair. So unlike someone Cas would _actually_ want.

(They smell better than you too)

Dean sat down on the couch, covering his horns and head with his hands as he curled himself into a ball. An ugly, disgusting lump on Cas’ otherwise clean furniture.

(You’re not allowed on the furniture, Deanmon)

Not. Allowed.

“That’s enough,” Cas snarled, and Meg made a surprised sound when he pulled her away. “You’re being overtly mean, and I won’t let you treat Dean like this.”

“Why do you care so much? He’s only a weird half-breed anyway.”

“I said that’s _enough_ , Meg.”

Dean didn’t see what was happening, not with his head bowed in anticipation of the blows that usually came after the insults. Sammy was thankfully quiet, so Dean started counting backwards from 100 to try and calm his beating heart. He heard Cas and Meg talk some more, but the voices were further away, as if Cas had pulled her into the kitchen. He thought he heard Meg call him a—

(Half-breed)

—dog, though he didn’t understand why. And Cas seemed even madder when he heard that, presumably because he didn’t like to have dirty mutts in his home. Dean’s heart beat heavily, thudding against his chest so loudly that it drowned out the rest of the humans’ conversation, though their voices escalated in volume so much that Dean knew he was seconds away from getting beaten for sure now.

Then suddenly there were hands grabbing him and golden runes flashed before Dean’s eyes. Their names were on the tip of his tongue but before he could speak them and cast the protective spell, he was hauled into a tight embrace.

(It’s a hug, dumbass)

Dean instantly relaxed when he realized that Cas was on the couch with him, hugging him securely. He closed his eyes and rested his face against the crook of Cas’ neck, hands curling around Cas’ shirt, bunching it up. Cas smelled of cedar and musk and Dean pressed closer, closer, close enough that he came to sit in Cas’ lap. Cas sighed and moved one hand to put it under Dean’s rump, holding him so he couldn’t slide off.

“I’m not a dog,” he mumbled eventually, feeling Cas huff out a new sigh.

“I know. You’re a demon. The best one I’ve ever met.”

“Have you met many?” Dean asked in a small voice, still refusing to open his eyes.

Cas seemed to contemplate the answer. Perhaps he was counting them, Dean thought. “I’ve met enough to know that you’re my favorite by far.”

“You’re also pretty great,” Dean mumbled shyly. “For a human.”

“Thanks,” Cas said, his tone amused. “Dean,” he jostled Dean and wouldn’t continue until Dean poked his head out so their eyes could meet. Dean blinked so he could see all of Cas’ pretty colors. “Thank you for not attacking Meg, even though you must have really wanted to.”

(No you didn’t! You hid like a coward!)

Dean realized two things in that moment.

One, that Sammy was right. Dean hadn’t wanted to attack Meg other than at the beginning, when she was just an unknown threat that Dean needed to protect Cas from. Then, even when she was so mean to him, he only wanted to hide and make her go away. Or better yet, have Cas make her go away, which he apparently had done. But Dean hadn’t even thought of attacking her to defend himself.

And two, Cas didn’t know that.

“I thought,” he started, tone too unsure. “That maybe she’s important to you?”

Cas nodded, which Dean supposed should have made him happy because he’d gotten it right, but it only made him sad.

“She really is, and I appreciate that you didn’t rip her to shreds.”

So Cas knew what demons were capable of, that was good, Dean thought.

“Because you have sex regularly?”

Cas made a face at that and Dean watched him intently. “It’s not regularly,” he muttered. “We were fuck buddies, I guess. But it’s been a long while since last. We’ve been friends since we were younger, though. I swear, she’s usually nicer. It was my fault for forgetting our lunch date today, I upset her.”

Dean squirmed to get closer again, arching his back when Cas put one hand on his flank, face showing surprise at Dean’s movement.

“Did you forget because of me?”

“I did,” Cas stated, and then smiled when Dean couldn’t help but grin. “Do you like hearing that?”

“Yes.”

Cas’ smile softened and he looked at Dean with kind eyes, pretty eyes. Dean liked it when Cas looked at him like he was important. It shut Sammy up and made Dean calm. And tingly.

“You’re a very good demon, Dean,” Cas rumbled then, hand petting down Dean’s back and over his tail. “Very good.”

That made Dean squirm again. “Maybe… next time, maybe M-Meg and me will…” he searched Cas’ eyes, trying to find the right answer, trying to make Cas see that Dean wanted to be good for him. “We could also be friends?”

Oh yes, that was right, that was the thing Cas wanted to hear. His smile widened and his pupils dilated a fraction, drawing Dean in.

“Very good,” he murmured, hands big and strong on Dean’s body and Dean felt safe for the first time in his life, here on the couch with this human.

Safe and cherished and seen.

(Happy)


	3. “You’re dirty, Cas. You should take a shower.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've added "slow burn" to the tags because we're on chapter 3 and I'm _still_ making introductions (and I'm not done yet!), jeez Louise...  
> Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy this update! Heads up for Dean's cheekiness to start peeking through 😉💖

Castiel was disappointed in Meg but he unfortunately couldn’t say he was surprised. She had a knack for speaking her mind and he _knew_ she was possessive, even though it had never really been serious between them. In fact, Castiel sometimes regretted sleeping with her, because he knew she’d read more into the situation, and they had long since stopped because of that.

To imply to Dean that she and Castiel were lovers was just her way of marking her territory, as it were, and Castiel didn’t appreciate it. Because, for one, he wasn’t anyone’s to mark, and second because it had seemed to hurt Dean. Castiel didn’t know why it would, in particular, but looking at the little creature’s reactions it had stood clear to Castiel that Dean definitely had suffered some kind of abuse in his life and Castiel hated that Dean had been reminded of it.

Also hated how Meg hadn’t seemed to accept that Castiel got upset with her and the situation. She had called Dean a dog, and worse, and had seemed generally agitated that Castiel “took that pitiful creature’s side” over hers. Castiel hadn’t liked her tone, simple as that.

Yes, he was at fault for forgetting their lunch and yes, it was somewhat worrying that he had. Castiel didn’t normally make mistakes like that and it stood clear to him that Dean’s presence affected him, perhaps more than the little creature understood himself. What was probably even more worrying was that he _wasn’t_ worried. It was the succubus part of Dean that made him feel like that, Castiel was sure, but even so he couldn’t seem to mind.

Anyway, Meg had since apologized but since she had only apologized to Castiel and refused to do so to Dean, Castiel still hadn’t really accepted her apology. He said he did to her, when she called, but privately he was still irritated and he refused to make new plans with her when she asked, citing work as the issue when it wasn’t.

That was a week ago and Castiel thought he should let it go but he was feeling a bit petulant about it. Dean had been really upset, and that hadn’t sat well with Castiel at all.

Today was a beautiful fall day, sun shining and cutting through some of the cold, and he and Dean were out in the garden, tending to it, when Castiel’s brother Gabriel suddenly joined him by his fence. Gabriel was grinning so widely Castiel suspected it was no mere coincidence that he was there, and he could only sigh as he straightened from working on the flower bed.

“So I assume Meg told you?”

Gabriel leaned on the fence, grinning even wider, if possible. “For starters, she told me you’d taken back the key you gave her years ago.”

Castiel pursed his lips. “To be fair, I should have done that much earlier. It had nothing to do with this incident, except timing.”

“I’m sure it didn’t.”

“What else did she tell you?” Castiel muttered, squinting at his smug brother.

“Oh nothing much,” Gabriel’s fake aloofness was atrocious. “Just that you’re harboring a _magical_ _creature_.”

Castiel drew a deep breath and got to his feet. “Dean’s not a magical creature,” he mumbled, looking over his shoulder as if the little demon would spontaneously appear and overhear them. “He’s a half-demon, half-human hybrid and it’s a _very_ sensitive topic. So, he’s a full on _demon_ , okay?”

Gabriel’s jaw, having opened in shock, snapped shut and he nodded, looking more serious than Castiel was used to seeing him.

“He must’ve suffered so much abuse,” he said, tone sad and Castiel felt his own heart ache.

“I have assumed,” he agreed. “But I haven’t asked, and I don’t think I will. He’ll tell me when he’s ready and if that day never comes, that’s okay too. I honestly don’t even know why he’s on Earth, or why he’s become attached to me at all. I just…”

Gabriel said “wanna help him” at the same time as Castiel said “find him fascinating” and both brothers stopped to regard each other.

“Well,” Gabriel said after a moment (during which Castiel was kind of panicking). “You’ve always been fascinated with otherworldly creatures, right?”

“Right,” Castiel said, and didn’t like how elated he felt at that explanation.

He could see in his brother’s eyes that he knew that Castiel’s fascination was different, though. Not at all the same as it was for a Yeti or a Wyrmling, no it was something entirely different and much more dangerous. Dark and delicious.

“And I mean,” Gabriel shot him a grin that _actually_ made Castiel relax. “Who am I to judge?”

Some ten years ago Gabriel had come across a fairy, which he’d become fast friends with. They called her Kali, but that was only because they couldn’t really pronounce her real name, much to her amusement. Castiel had been endlessly fascinated and impressed (still was), though the little fairy was prone to mostly speak to Gabriel and resent a whole lot of the rest of them. She was, in Castiel’s opinion, kind of a bitch but he was still awed by her every time he visited Gabriel.

Because she was clearly interesting in all the obvious ways, hell she was a tiny human-looking creature with wings, who glowed a warm yellow from some internal light. But Gabriel and Kali’s interactions, and her ultimately choosing to live with him rather than her own kind, proved to Castiel what he’d already suspected (and written several theses on), namely that humans and mythological creatures (and cryptids) could not only co-exist but also befriend each other.

And more than that, as Gabriel had drunkenly confessed to Castiel a few years back, humans were more than capable of falling in love with the creatures and Castiel had wondered ever since how the relationship would have worked out, had Kali reciprocated Gabriel’s emotions. As it were, she didn’t, and Gabriel had been crushed by the weight of his unrequited love for quite some years now, and yet he didn’t have the heart to ask her to move out and she, even knowing his feelings for her, made no move to leave herself.

Castiel supposed that was one of the things that colored his opinion of her, but he held back on saying anything after he’d promised his drunk and crying brother never to mention what he knew to a living soul.

“How is Kali?” he asked now, watching Gabriel’s face closely.

“Great, looking forward to the snow.”

Avalon, the realm of the fairies, didn’t typically have a lot of snow.

“That’s good, I—”

“So can I meet him?”

Castiel checked himself before asking who. Just looking at Gabriel’s sparkling eyes it was clear to Castiel who he was talking about.

He sighed and started walking to the gate in the fence to unlatch it. “I suppose. But _be gentle_.”

“I will,” Gabriel huffed. “Remember, little brother, that for all your studies it was _me_ who befriended a cryptid first.”

As if that were supposed to make him an expert, more so than Castiel who’d devoted most of his adult life to his studies. And on that note, Castiel had _met_ lots of cryptids, he just hadn’t talked to a whole lot of them. Talking was difficult when you were running for your life, nothing weird about that.

The rebuttal was on the tip of his tongue but Castiel held it back. There was no reason to push down on his brother’s pride, not in this case, and not when Dean so clearly was _Castiel’s_ friend.

He paused where he was walking a few steps behind Gabriel. Was he actually feeling petty about the chances that Dean would like Gabriel better than him? Yes, he realized as he watched his brother sneak slowly around the corner of the house. He was nervous about Dean getting hurt again (yes, he was still mad at Meg, there was no denying that anymore) and he was even more nervous about Dean leaving him to live with Gabriel instead.

That was dangerous, he thought. Maybe it would do him some good if Dean went to live somewhere else, maybe the closeness to the little creature’s succubus genes were affecting him more than he thought. And yet, he felt in complete control of himself, so much unlike succubus survivors who usually suffered so much they would rather kill themselves than be separated from the demon.

“He’s only half,” Castiel mumbled to himself and vowed to call his good friend and colleague Balthazar, another expert within the mythological creatures field of study.

When they came round the back, they found Dean where Castiel had left him, dutifully doing his best trying to rake the leaves in Castiel’s backyard. As soon as Castiel had announced his plans for today Dean had jumped on the idea of helping Castiel.

The little demon seemed content just to be close to Castiel and as he worked on his articles and material for his few classes at the university, Dean would sit on the couch and try to read. It was obvious that he could, just that he wasn’t very good at it, and that he seemed to enjoy it. Currently he was about half-way through _Treasure Island_ and Castiel was rather looking forward to seeing Dean’s reaction to the conclusion to the book.

However, when Castiel had told Dean he would be tending to his garden today, Dean had been so excited to help that Castiel started suspecting he would have to come up with more chores for Dean to do to pass the time. Dean seemed to be nothing if not enthusiastic, a trait that surprised Castiel.

Though looking at the poor job the little creature had done, it was immediately clear to Castiel that enthusiasm only took you so far. Dean seemed proud of his tiny (and scattered) heaps of leaves, though, and the sight made Castiel’s heart tighten.

“Dean,” he called so as not to alarm the creature of their approach. Dean was skittish, at best, and Castiel wanted to work on making the demon feel safe with him. “Take a break and come meet my brother.”

“He rakes leaves?” Gabriel mumbled out one corner of his mouth.

Castiel couldn’t help but grin widely. “And happily so.”

“Is he on loan?”

Dean came upon them just as Gabriel said that and he flicked his black demon eyes between the brothers, a worried little knot between his delicate eyebrows.

“Gabriel is impressed with your work,” Castiel said, answering Dean’s unspoken question.

Dean immediately puffed out his chest and flashed them a grin, sharp incisors and all. “Cas showed me how.”

“Cas is lucky to have you,” Gabriel winked when Dean positively beamed at him. “I’m Gabriel, Cas’ big brother. Though I supposed he got all the good genes,” Gabriel chuckled at his own poor joke as he extended his hand for Dean to shake.

Dean only looked up at Castiel, the worried knot back.

“He only means to say I’m taller than him even though I’m younger,” Castiel said dismissively and stepped up to take Dean’s right hand, connecting it with Gabriel’s. “Now shake and introduce yourself.”

Dean, obviously unaccustomed to the act, shook their hands in all directions but thankfully wasn’t too rough.

“I’m Dean, Cas said I could call myself that. I’m a demon,” he gingerly let go of Gabriel’s hand when Castiel gestured for him to do so. “And I live here.”

He rushed out the last part, eyes quickly flicking up to Castiel’s face and then back to Gabriel’s when Castiel didn’t object. Damn Meg for putting doubts in Dean’s mind.

Gabriel, for his part, looked like he was about to melt from cuteness overload, which clearly wasn’t the kind of look someone should sport when coming face to face with a presumably dangerous demon.

“I’m sure Cas is happy to have you,” he squeaked, hugging his right hand to his chest. “So how did you two come to meet?”

Dean’s horned head swung around, and he pointed at the old apple tree at the far end of Castiel’s yard.

“I wanted apples.”

“Apples?” Gabriel asked, obviously before he could stop himself. “I thought demons only ate meat?”

Castiel pursed his lips, thinking this was a sensitive topic, but Dean surprised him by answering in a happy tone.

“We eat anything we can get.”

“Scavengers?” Gabriel asked, the question directed at Castiel, who shrugged.

“Omnivores,” he stated, and then smiled kindly at Dean who was looking at them in confusion. “In short, Dean was hungry and I had much better food than moldy apples inside.”

“And then I stayed,” Dean said proudly, as if house squatting was a good thing. Well, Castiel supposed it was in this case.

“You know,” Gabriel said, his most inviting smile in place and Castiel frowned down at his brother. “If you like apples I make the best apple pie in the state.”

Dean visibly perked up. “I had apple pie once. I loved it. But I couldn’t eat it again because I stol…e…” he bowed his head, clearly ashamed of having stolen food.

It was such a non-demon reaction that Castiel wondered (not for the first time) how Dean could have survived for so long without the other demons killing him in cold blood. And not only that, his unique (for a demon) sense of right and wrong was astonishing and more than a little curious.

“It’s okay, Dean,” Gabriel said softly. “I’ll make a pie all for you, okay?”

Dean’s head snapped up. “Really?”

“Totally!” Gabriel exclaimed, clearly getting caught up in Dean’s excitement. “In fact, Thanksgiving is coming up. That’s a human holiday that we celebrate with all kinds of food. You and Cas should come to my house and I’ll cook us up a feast!”

Dean nearly jumped with excitement, his human eyes popping out. “Yeah!”

Gabriel startled, though probably more from the sight of Dean’s green eyes than the demon’s excitement. Castiel, on the other hand, felt a surge of inexplicable jealousy and for a moment all he could think about was how _he_ also could bake and how _he_ was more than capable of making a turkey dinner. And how Dean had chosen to live _here_ , in _Castiel’s_ house.

He shook himself a second later, almost laughing at himself.

“That sounds like a splendid idea,” he said, tone warm and affectionate. He wanted Dean to stay, that was much clear to him after only such a short time, and having the demon get along with Castiel’s friends and family would facilitate that.

Castiel would just have to work on his odd spurts of jealousy, that was all. Clearly it happened partly because Dean was some kind of succubus hybrid (even though the demon seemed unaware of the effect he had on people) and partly it was because, in short, Castiel had always been rather possessive of his lovers.

He frowned to himself as Dean and Gabriel cheered about their fantastic dinner plans. He and Dean weren’t lovers and Castiel would do well to check himself in that regard. There was no law against human and cryptid relationships (of sexual nature), simply because cryptids were considered sentient enough to consent, unlike an animal. But like an animal, cryptids weren’t human (though some, like Dean, were humanoid) and though there was no law against it, it was still a social taboo and considered weird on all kinds of levels. Castiel, for his part, had never really considered the possibility, at least not until Gabriel and Kali.

He watched with careful eyes how Gabriel taught Dean how to high five and decided to be cautious but open-minded in his conduct regarding the little half-demon.

“This is awesome news,” Gabriel stated when he and Dean had managed a clear high five (after two botched attempts). “Now I’m so excited I don’t even wanna go to work.”

“But you have to,” Dean assured him in his most mature tone. “Work is important, right Cas?”

This time Castiel felt a swell of fondness, rather than jealousy.

“Right.”

“I guess,” Gabriel grumped. “We’ll talk later, okay Dean?”

“Okay,” Dean nodded, smiling, and Castiel had to all but drag Gabriel away.

As soon as they were around the corner of the house and out of eyeshot from Dean, Gabriel stopped and touched his hand to his forehead.

“What… what was _that_?”

“Oh yeah, I mentioned that Dean is probably half-succubus, didn’t I?”

Gabriel gave him a scathing glare, which Castiel most definitely enjoyed too much. “You only said half- _demon_.”

“Quiet down,” Castiel said, businesslike as he steered Gabriel to the front yard. “Dean’s hearing is better than a human’s.”

“Cas, be honest, is it really safe for you to live with him?”

Castiel wanted to be mean and condescending and mention how Gabriel was living with a fairy with whom he was in love with and who didn’t return his feelings. One could, if inclined to hurt, argue that she was simply taking advantage of Gabriel’s affections.

But Castiel, for all his shortcomings, had never been a mean man.

“Honestly, I’m still trying to figure that out,” he gave his dubious brother an assuring smile. “But I _am_ certain that whatever powers Dean have, he’s not using them on purpose. And though I probably feel things… well, things I shouldn’t, I don’t think it will come to anything harmful.”

Gabriel squinted so hard Castiel almost thought his brother’s face would get stuck like that.

“Well okay then,” he said after a while, slowly as if he didn’t believe his own words but wanted to. “I have to admit that Dean seems especially well-behaved. And I mean,” he shrugged, some of his usual casualness returning. “I guess demons and devils are known for their trickery, but I didn’t… I didn’t feel like that with him? Maybe he just wanted himself an apple?”

That made Castiel chuckle unexpectedly. “I actually think that’s it. So, what do you say? Are we still welcome on Thanksgiving?”

“Of course,” Gabriel said, almost dismissively, as he unlatched the front gate and walked outside. “If anything, I think it would be interesting for Dean and Kali to meet.”

Castiel winched. “Tell her to be on her best behavior. I don’t know why, but I feel like Dean is delicate. Or I mean, I think I can guess why, but you know what I meant.”

“Yeah,” Gabriel mumbled, shaking his head sadly. “Poor guy, I wonder why the other demons let him live at all?”

Castiel was a little startled to hear Gabriel repeat his own earlier thoughts. “I hope we’ll find out, in due time,” was all he said, and Gabriel left to go to his work not long after.

When Castiel returned to the backyard he once again found Dean in the middle of doing a horrible job of raking the leaves. It seemed as if he constantly forgot where he’d put the heaps and walked all over them, rather than making one first and then tossing that on the compost or the flower beds like Castiel had told him.

He smiled to himself as he approached the frantically raking demon. Dean’s little tail was in a state of agitation, frazzled and absolutely adorable. Dean was also largely covered in dirt and leaves, since he refused to wear clothes.

“I think we’ll call it for today,” Castiel said, pulling off his gardening gloves.

Dean’s head swiveled around, and he peered up at Castiel, cheeks rosy. “But I haven’t finished.”

Actually, looking at the backyard it almost seemed as if he hadn’t even started.

“I know but you’ve done a really good job and you deserve a break.”

Dean hummed and hawed for a moment. “I guess, if you think it’s time.”

“I do,” Castiel grinned. “Let’s put the rake and the basket in the tool shed.”

The basket was as pristine and clean (unused) as it had been when Castiel had brought it out for Dean to carry leaves in and Castiel smiled to himself as Dean all but skipped by his side over to the small tool shed opposite Dean’s apple tree.

After they’d put away the tools, Castiel stopped momentarily outside the shed to gather some leaves in his hands and press them over the perennial flowers next to the tool shed. He got to his feet when he was done, clapping his hands to get rid of dirt and saw Dean flexing his own hands while looking at them, and the dirt that all but covered them.

Judging by how much dirt he actually had on him, Castiel was starting to suspect the demon _had_ tried to move the leaves somehow because no one could really get _that_ dirty from just raking leaves, right? He smiled to himself again, walking up to Dean and taking the demon’s hands in his for a moment, brushing away dirt.

“I think you’re due for a shower, before we eat,” he said kindly and Dean looked up at him, regarding him with his black demon eyes.

“Then you too.”

The statement took Castiel by surprise and he looked down at Dean with his eyebrows high on his forehead.

“Me? I barely got sweaty.”

“But I want—”

Castiel interrupted him with a dismissive hand wave. “I’ll just wash off my hands in the sink and it’ll be fine.”

That made Dean purse his lips for a second, and then he bent down, scooping a handful of soggy dirt from the flower bed. And before Castiel could stop him (didn’t even know what he was doing), Dean had grabbed Castiel’s sweater in one hand and pushed it up to reveal Castiel’s stomach, smearing him with cold mud.

Castiel stood absolutely still, stricken with confused shock (and cold), staring down at Dean with big eyes as the demon regarded his handiwork before gingerly lowering Castiel’s sweater again. Flicking away his demon eyes, Dean looked up at Castiel with twinkling green eyes.

“You’re dirty, Cas,” he deadpanned. “You should take a shower.”

Castiel was so struck by Dean’s audacity that he at first didn’t really feel the tendrils of arousal that curled around his groin.

“I guess I should,” he mumbled, breathy, and Dean smirked winningly before turning to trot back to the house on his little hooves.

*****

Castiel had really done it now, he thought as he stood naked under the gentle spray in his downstairs shower. He had really done it and he didn’t even have the decency to be ashamed about it.

Because he was fully naked in the shower with Dean, who was (of course) also fully naked, and the little creature was singing to himself as he played with the lather from the soap. Castiel felt rooted to the spot. Felt almost like he had been in trance from the scene out in his backyard and until now. Because how else could he explain all the spectacularly bad decisions he’d made in the last twenty minutes?

For one, why were they in the _same_ shower? Castiel’s house was equipped with two bathrooms; the one upstairs which featured a small bathtub with a shower curtain and this downstairs bathroom with a fully sized shower stall. There was _no_ reason for them to be showering _together_. Sure, Castiel usually used this downstairs one because he liked to take baths in the tub but not really shower in it, that was the explanation as to why he had walked here immediately. But why hadn’t he told Dean to use the tub? Because Dean’s hooves slipped on the tub’s surface? Then Castiel could have showered upstairs.

Yeah, Castiel had no good explanation. No logical one.

And, for that matter, point number two was even more illogical. Namely, why was he naked? Why wasn’t he in at least his swimming trunks? Sure, he always showered naked, why wouldn’t he? But he knew he wasn’t exactly alone this time and the only other times he’d showered naked with someone else was either at the bathhouse (which wasn’t _together_ with the other men as much as side by side) and with his previous lovers. Or, his _exes_. Yes, that was better. “Previous” made it sound as if he had a current lover, which he didn’t.

Dean beamed up at him when Cas looked down at the demon. His incisors were as sharp as ever but somehow, they weren’t the least frightening. Rather, they made his grin more precious and Castiel felt a lump in his throat.

“Don’t get soap in your eyes,” he said, his voice thankfully not half as shaky as he felt.

Dean immediately squeezed his eyes shut. “Why not?”

It was hard to tell what ached the most in that moment, Castiel’s heart or his heated groin. Because yes, there was no doubt in Castiel’s mind that he was getting aroused. Dean did that to him on most days, not to mention nights. That Dean had taken to sleeping in Castiel’s bed almost every night was both a blessing and a curse.

But sometimes, like now, the reason for Castiel’s arousal was less obvious. Sure, they were naked and wet together, and sure, Castiel had had his fair share of shower sex so his lizard brain could make all the (in-)appropriate connections just fine. But that didn’t mean Castiel had to like his own reactions.

“Because it stings,” he mumbled, framing Dean’s face with his hands and rubbing his thumbs over the creature’s closed eyelids so he could clean off the suds.

Dean only hummed and tilted his head back to give Castiel access. So trusting to be standing there with his eyes closed as a human touched him uninhibitedly, Castiel thought with a strange sadness. There was so much pain he so easily could inflict on Dean, not to mention how much the little demon had already endured, and yet he’d decided to trust Castiel this much. With his life, even.

“I’ll help you clean off,” he said, voice hushed, and Dean only nodded.

It had only taken them a few days but Dean by now didn’t argue as much when Castiel said anything that could indicate that the demon was weak. Instead, he accepted the help without question and took great pride in helping Castiel whenever he could, which wasn’t much, if Castiel was honest. But there was something about Dean that made Castiel feel better just knowing the demon was inside the house and safe.

Maybe it was the succubus pheromones or maybe it was the sight of Dean’s beaten and bruised body that made Castiel feel protective, or maybe it was a little of both. Castiel frankly didn’t care, not on any regular day and not now as he let his hands sweep over Dean’s lithe body, washing off soap and dirt.

The bruises had all but disappeared now, though. Dean’s body no doubt utilizing the supernatural healing most (if not all) demons had. Those hadn’t troubled Castiel as much, to be honest. What scared him more was the disarray of cuts and scars that went over Dean’s body in zig zag patterns. Because those were old, and they had to be deep to leave scars on someone like Dean, on any demon. Deep or constant.

They’d made him choke up the first time he noticed them, and they made him choke up now, this up and close. Because other than chaste and quick (perfunctory) touches, Castiel didn’t really touch Dean all that much. In bed, some, because the demon insisted on sleeping wrapped around Castiel like an octopus but that wasn’t the same either.

“Dean,” he said, his voice low as he traced one of the scars down the little creature’s back.

“Yeah?”

Dean’s black demon eyes were looking up at Castiel with open curiosity, completely unaware of what Castiel was doing or thinking. Dean didn’t seem bothered by the scars, and perhaps he didn’t even think about them. Or perhaps he remembered them in the deepest darkness of the night and that was why he was so adamant about hugging Castiel in his sleep. Castiel didn’t want to upset him but at the same time he felt a wave of protectiveness wash over him.

“Dean, who did this to you?”

Dean turned on the spot, trying to look over his shoulder at his back, his little tail flicking up and flinging water at Castiel.

“What?”

“These,” Castiel pressed his fingers harder against one of the biggest scars. “Someone hurt you.”

“Mh,” Dean hummed, coming to stand facing Castiel and much closer than what was appropriate. “Demons. They didn’t like me.”

Castiel wasn’t usually a very emotional man but Dean really brought it out of him. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why? Are you gonna hurt me too?”

“What? No!” Castiel frowned down at Dean. “I will never intentionally hurt you.”

Dean surprised him by putting his hands on Castiel’s chest, palms flat against Castiel’s heated skin.

“Because you’re kind.”

Castiel’s heart stuttered. “Yes.”

“And you like me.”

Castiel almost staggered on his feet. Distantly he felt his dick responding, twitching to life, and he saw as if in a haze how the water had flattened down Dean’s fluffy fur. And there, between the demon’s legs his groin was completely on display. His furry balls, his small sheath, all laid out in plain sight for Castiel to look his fill. He wanted to touch, to run his thumb over them and feel Dean’s sheath grow as his dick thickened. Come to think of it, wasn’t Dean’s sheath a little swollen?

Dean shifted on his hooves then and Castiel squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. His _hooves_. Dean had horns and hooves, and he had fur and he was a _demon_. And not only that, but Dean also depended on Castiel to help him, to take care of him, and for how mature Dean actually was he was still very innocent and Castiel couldn’t—shouldn’t— _wouldn’t_ —

“I do,” he rasped, managing to smile normally down at the creature. “I like you. You are my sweet little demon.”

“I like you too,” Dean chirped happily, squirming and squeezing his legs together momentarily before turning around to face the water spray.

Castiel’s heart thudded dully, his whole body seeming to pulse with each beat and his vision blurred for a moment, zeroing in on Dean’s butt and the natural arch of his back. Castiel’s dick felt hot and heavy between his legs and he felt as if all the air was being squeezed out of his lungs. He bit his lower lip against an embarrassing sound and closed his eyes again, scrubbing his hands over his face.

When he opened them again, he felt better, more in control, and he breathed the warm air in the shower deeply, saturated with their smells combined with the scent of the soap.

“Hey, Cas?” Dean grinned up at him, eyes mischievous. “Since you cleaned me, does that mean that I can clean you too?”

Castiel should say no. He was a grown man and the only reason why he should need someone else to clean him would be either if he were too ill to take care of himself or if he were in a relationship with the other party. And since neither was true right now, he _should_ say no. But he didn’t.

Instead, he reached out and plucked the loofa from its shelf, handing it and the soap to Dean.

“Knock yourself out,” he heard himself say and he smiled wide in response to Dean’s happiness.

Yes, Castiel had certainly done it now, but as he stood there and enjoyed the feeling of Dean’s hand soothing in the wake of the scratchy loofa, he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it. Because the truth was that he while was experiencing bursts of succubus pheromones that made him want to do things to Dean that weren’t necessarily appropriate, he was also experiencing the liberating feeling of falling in love and for perhaps the first time in his life he wasn’t scared of the feeling. 

Couldn’t be, when he looked down at Dean’s wide smile and saw the answering affection in the little demon’s human eyes.


	4. “I didn’t kill it!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early posting today because reasons! 😃  
> It's time for Dean's pov again and we'll start to see just how (not) innocent he can be 😏

“I think I’m gonna call it a night,” Cas said when a commercial break came up on the TV. Cas didn’t like commercials, not like Dean. “Do you want to stay up?”

Dean thought about it for a moment, looking at the TV and then up at Cas. He wanted to sleep with Cas, but he wasn’t feeling tired. Was actually feeling a little buzzed, like that time he got into Sammy’s stash of herbs and ate something he shouldn’t.

Sammy laughed at him.

“I’ll join you later?” he tried slowly, trying to make his words sound certain but they came out sounding like a question anyway. Because he didn’t know if he was welcome in Cas’ bed, even if he slept in it most nights.

Twice he’d fallen asleep on the couch and Cas had left him there the whole night. Dean had felt a hole in his chest when he woke up alone, but he didn’t say anything to Cas about it.

(Because we’re not clingy)

Dean tried not to be. Demons weren’t clingy.

(We’re not weak)

Dean was frankly getting tired of Sammy nagging about this. Cas made it seem as if it were okay to be weak sometimes, almost as if it could be a strength in itself to show when you were scared or hurt. But Sammy _hated_ when Dean thought along those lines.

Cas, though, Cas seemed to like it when Dean learned and was polite…

“If that’s okay?”

Sammy roared at him, so loud Dean almost flinched. But Cas smiled widely down at him and reached to pat Dean on the head with his big hand. Big and warm and so kind.

“Of course, just remember to turn off the TV before you come up. And brush your fangs.”

Dean sucked on his teeth and then beamed up at Cas, trying to show him that there was nothing wrong with his teeth. Cas just shook his head, smiling fondly, and walked up the stairs to his bedroom.

(Not fondly, don’t kid yourself, Deanmon)

Dean just sighed at Sammy and reached for the remote. They’d been watching a cooking show Cas liked but Dean wanted to watch something more… well, something _more_. He felt that buzz inside him and he wanted action and danger and something that made his heart thump.

(You want gore and murder)

No, no that wasn’t it. Dean knew he was a failure as a demon in most ways and the obvious one being how he had never really killed anything. Dean just didn’t like killing, and he didn’t like blood. He wasn’t scared of it or anything like that, he just didn’t… _enjoy_ it as demons did. Sammy had always thought that was curious.

(It _is_ curious)

“Not you,” Dean mumbled and shifted on the couch. “The real Sammy.”

(I _am_ real, what the fuck, Deanmon?)

Dean snarled but his attention got derailed when he clicked on the SyFy Channel and saw what he thought was Cas for a moment. But no, it was a movie, so that had to be an actor. Cas had explained the concept of actors to Dean, so he knew about those. He looked an awful lot like Cas though, and Dean couldn’t stop staring. He was kind of scruffy and he was annoyed in the scene Dean was watching, saying something about it being a robot head. Dean didn’t really understand but he didn’t care all that much when the buzzing in him grew and he felt his groin tingle.

He put down the remote and snuggled in on the couch, watching the not-Cas on the TV for a while. The man’s voice was lighter, and his eyes seemed wider, but Dean liked how he looked anyway. Liked how he moved.

It didn’t take long before he had to put his hand down on his sheath.

Contrary to what had been assumed by others around him before, and contrary to what Dean suspected Cas believed, Dean wasn’t innocent when it came to sex. He had witnessed a _lot_ of it before he came to live with Sammy, and since coming to live on Earth he had witnessed even more, though not half as debauched, and seemingly much more pleasurable, to Dean’s inexperienced mind.

The first time Dean touched himself was on Earth but that probably had more to do with a general lack of interest when he was down in Hell. His life down there hadn’t been good, Dean knew that now. With Sammy it had been okay, hadn’t at least been as abusive, but it still hadn’t been an environment where Dean had felt inclined to explore all the aspects of sex or self-indulgence that he had witnessed in other demons.

Up here on Earth, though, life felt beautiful. And humans… humans were very interesting to Dean. The thought of having sex with other demons or devils or the tortured carcasses in Hell squicked Dean out. But the thought of a human…

And in a sense, he supposed his lack of sexual exploration before coming up to Earth had with maturity to do as well. Sammy had noted something similar before he was killed and Dean was shunned. Dean had been 100 years old in human years on that day, which was the general age when a demon would change from juvenile to mature. Sammy had dreaded the date, he’d told Dean in confidence one night, but he hadn’t said why. Now Dean suspected him ascending to maturity had something to do with the demon attack that ultimately killed Sammy, as if they had waited for that moment. Dean didn’t like to think about it like that because he didn’t know for sure but if it was true, then he supposed he was indirectly the reason for Sammy’s death and Sammy had had a lot of shortcomings, but Dean had loved him like a brother.

Dean closed his eyes, scrunching them shut for a moment before opening them wide, viewing the actor in the movie in full color. And oh, he had the same eye color as Cas.

He bared his teeth as a wave of pleasure rolled over him and he pressed the heel of his hand harder against his sheath. His little dick was responding, growing, and he spread his legs slightly, putting two of his fingers in his mouth to suck on as he watched the actor with greedy eyes. He was handsome and Dean wanted him to be here and touch him.

He pressed his head back, eyes on the stairs for a moment. No. He wanted Cas to come down and touch Dean.

Yesterday they had shared a shower together and even though Cas had seemed hesitant and dazed for most of it, Dean had loved every moment. He could sense in Cas that the man wanted him, or at least wanted to explore his body, and Dean didn’t know why he was holding back but he knew he had to break through Cas’ barrier soon or he would go insane with desire.

He gasped a little when he popped out his spit-slick fingers and pinched one of his perky nipples. Dean loved to have his nipples played with and now it made him arch his back and grind his hand harder against his sheath and balls. It had been too long, he thought, too long since he felt safe enough to indulge like this.

His dick slid out with the smoothness of practiced ease just about the same time as Dean felt his ass slick up. He didn’t know why his hole did that or if it was normal, just as he barely knew any of his own bodily functions. But he knew that he liked it and he’d concluded that he would like to have something inside his ass as he climaxed. Like, a human male’s erect dick, for instance.

Dean whimpered as images of Cas, hard and waiting for him, came to mind. It felt lewd and wrong in some ways, to picture Cas so clearly like that. Because Cas had been nothing but nice to Dean, he probably didn’t want to push Dean down and roughly shove his cock inside Dean’s tight little hole. He would probably be disgusted if they ever did it, just like other demons had said they would be.

Dean hadn’t thought about that so much at the time because he hadn’t wanted to have sex with them either, but if Cas were to say something like that… Maybe that was why he was holding back? Maybe his dick wanted Dean, but his mind didn’t? Could that be a thing?

Dean whined and rolled his head to the side, eyes immediately catching on the handsome actor. He rolled his hips up against his hand, imagining kissing the actor instead. Imagining _his_ hands on him, _his_ dick inside him, filling him up. Pleasure sparked in his groin, spreading throughout his body, and making his dick vibrate with need. He grabbed it in one hand, the other still pinching his nipple, and bit his lower lip to keep from making too much noise as he pleasured himself.

He knew his hooves and horns were digging into the couch and blanket and he didn’t want to destroy them but oh it just felt so good. His whole body was shuddering, his vision blurring as heated waves crashed over him, making him delirious with need and not only the need to release but for physical contact.

He closed his eyes then, tears escaping from the corners of his eyes as golden runes appeared before his mind’s inner eye. Yes, he remembered these runes from when Sammy was alive. The demon had used them to hear conversations he’d heard again, the voices playing out loud in his cave-like house. And Dean knew how to use them!

He called them forth with a shuddered whisper and immediately the room around him erupted with the sound of Cas calling his name.

“Dean.”

“I like you.”

“Dean.”

“You are my sweet little demon.”

“Dean.”

“You’re a very good demon, Dean.”

“Dean.”

“Cas!”

Dean’s pleasure crested so violently that his spunk hit him on his chin and dribbled all over his chest and stomach. His ass clenched rhythmically, and he whined forlornly at the feeling of how _not_ full he was.

He stayed on his back on the couch for a while, panting and staring up at the ceiling, the TV the only other sound in the room again. His limbs felt heavy and residual pleasure made him drowsy and sluggish, but he couldn’t help but grin to himself.

“I did it, Sammy,” he mumbled. “I used the runes. I knew how.”

Dean wasn’t supposed to know. Sammy had been so impressed the first time Dean had used the golden runes, that time completely on accident. Because Dean was a demon and the magic those runes held weren’t for demons. But Dean had understood them and applied them flawlessly and Sammy had been happy, had smiled for the first and perhaps only time in all of their years together.

“I did it. I _could_.”

(Yes you did, Deanmon. Well done)

Cas jerked when Dean lifted the comforter, sneaking into the warm bed not twenty minutes later. Cleaning up hadn’t been as fun as making the mess but Dean hadn’t minded, not when he knew Cas liked things to be neat and clean.

“Dean?”

Dean’s whole body tingled from hearing Cas speak for real.

“Yeah.”

“Did you call for me earlier?” Cas turned over, rolling to his back and Dean immediately snuggled up against the man’s side, tucking his head under Cas’ chin as best he could without hurting Cas with his horns. “I thought I heard something.”

Dean was thankful Sammy was quiet so he could think in peace.

“I forgot how to turn off the TV,” the lie tasted bad in Dean’s mouth and he smacked his lips. “But then I remembered.”

Cas hummed sleepily and pulled the comforter around them. “Good boy.”

Dean sighed with contentment and closed his eyes, smiling against Cas’ warm skin as he enjoyed the renewed buzzing that came with Cas’ soft words. Dean _was_ a good boy. A good boy for Cas.

*****

The next day was a bleak one with heavy overcast clouds, filled with rain no doubt. Dean liked rain, it never rained in Hell. He wasn’t too fond of the cold that followed this time of year, though, but he didn’t dare voice that or Sammy would get mad.

Currently he was out in Cas’ backyard, poking around. Cas was at work, which was something humans did that was important and sometimes, like in Cas’ case, something they thought was fun. Cas didn’t go away for work much, mostly he did stuff in his home office and Dean was happy about that. He didn’t understand much about Cas’ work, even though the man answered all of Dean’s questions, but he thought it sounded fun. More fun than doing nothing all day, he supposed at least.

Cas had told Dean that he was free to come and go as he wished, though he had warned Dean about getting too close to other humans. All humans were well-aware of mythological creatures and cryptids — or theological creatures, which was what Cas had told Dean he was — and most humans had either had encounters or personally knew such creatures themselves, Cas had told Dean. But, and this apparently concerned the man, most if not all humans were either wary of or outright scared of demons and devils and would have no qualms attacking Dean if they felt threatened and Cas told Dean he didn’t want him to get hurt. Dean was all too familiar with what humans could do to him if they wanted to and didn’t need to be told twice to be careful, though he didn’t tell Cas that or he suspected the man would never let him out of his sight. 

Cas’ protective side made Dean squirm with delight, so he only nodded when Cas explained that Dean was in no way bound to the house but that he wanted the demon to be careful. The only real rule that Cas wanted to ensure Dean followed was that if he went further than the yard, which was fenced in so Dean was certain of the limits, then he had to lock the doors to the house and bring a key with him. Cas hadn’t specified that Dean wouldn’t be able to get back inside without a key so on the first day that Dean went out he came back only to find that he couldn’t come inside again. Cas had found him under the apple tree a long time later and he’d apologized a lot about that, but Dean didn’t really understand why since it was his own fault for not bringing the key like told.

(You’re pretty stupid, after all, Deanmon)

Sammy was right about that, Dean thought. It wasn’t like Dean didn’t understand the concept of keys, Sammy’s house had had several locked doors, so Dean was more than familiar with that. But Cas’ doors locked automatically somehow and that was a novelty that Dean had learned the hard way.

Now he knew better, though, and when he wanted to take a walk in the woods behind Cas’ house, he brought a key on a string with him. The string went around his neck, or sometimes he weaved it around his wrist, and he felt comforted by the slight weight. With this key, he could get inside Cas’ house and back to the man at his own whim.

Usually Dean didn’t wander much, though. He preferred to be inside; Cas’ house too curious to leave on most days. But today he’d wanted some fresh air and the promise of rain and beckoned him outside so here he was. By the tool shed, looking down at a dead bird.

(You should eat it)

“No,” Dean mumbled, tilting his head to the side as he looked into the bird’s lifeless eyes. “I don’t think Cas…”

(Cas isn’t here. You’re hungry, aren’t you?)

Dean looked up, turning his head to peer at the quiet house as he rubbed a hand over his stomach. He _was_ hungry, and he didn’t know when Cas would be returning. Cas had told him, but Dean didn’t really understand the concept of time, or clocks, despite Cas trying to teach him. Cas would be home before it was time for bed, that was the extent of Dean’s knowledge.

He would cook something when he got back, Dean was sure of that because Cas usually did that. Dean wanted to be helpful and cook for the man, but the truth was that Dean was cautious—

(Scared)

—of the stove. Not because he thought he would get hurt or anything, Dean wasn’t afraid of fire after all the years spent in Hell. But Cas had showed him how it worked and had emphasized very clearly that if not treated right, the house could burn down.

“And if that happened,” Cas had said, very serious. “I would be extremely sad.”

Just the thought of making the man sad made Dean’s stomach knot unpleasantly.

(Wimp)

Dean didn’t care that Sammy thought he was being ridiculous. Dean didn’t want to anger or disappoint Cas in any way and that was that. So, Dean simply didn’t cook. Didn’t use the stove at all, or that microwave thingy that Cas had also shown him. Dean was content with raw food or sandwiches and though he felt a bit bad about not helping Cas, he thought it was fine and the food in Cas’ fridge and pantry was anyhow way better than the things Dean had survived on before, cooked or not.

Things like this dead bird.

(It’s dead anyway, what does it matter if you eat it?)

Dean didn’t know. He’d eaten dead animals before, a lot, and actually, when he thought logically about it, he _should_ eat it, or its death would be a waste.

(How human of you)

Sammy sounded awfully condescending, but Dean thought he was right in his thinking anyway. Waste not, was a thing that alive-Sammy had said on numerous occasions and Dean thought it was a good thing to try and live after. And he _was_ hungry.

He squatted down, feeling his mouth water at the thought of eating the bird. Then again, inside Cas’ house was a jar of what Cas called peanut butter and that was much better tasting.

(You could put peanut butter on the bird)

That was just absurd.

(Or is it?)

Dean reached for the bird, slowly as if giving the animal time to wake up and flee.

“Oh, there you are.”

Dean snatched his hand back and whipped around so fast he almost fell down on top of the bird. Cas smiled at him as he approached, and Dean’s heart thumped wildly when Sammy howled with laughter.

(You got caught!)

He sang, his words bouncing around Dean’s head as Cas joined him by the bird.

(You’re gonna get it now, Deanmon!)

Dean shook his head, eyes wide in fear as Cas crouched down, expression shifting to a saddened frown.

 _“No,”_ Dean thought, heart thudding harder. _“Cas won’t hit me.”_

(I dunno Deanmon, you killed that bird after all)

“I didn’t kill it!” Dean blurted; his voice too high to be believable, too frantic. “I didn’t.”

Cas turned to look at Dean, eyes searching. “It’s okay, Dean,” he said voice soft.

(Cas knows you’re too weak)

“No,” Dean squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, shaking his head again. No Cas didn’t think like that, he was just agreeing with what Dean had said. “I found it like this, I swear.”

“Dean,” Cas put his hand on Dean’s shoulder, making him jerk. But not away, never away. If you shied away from the hits you got punished. “Dean, listen to me.”

Dean pried his eyes open, prepared for the strike. Somehow, he had to get punished, didn’t he? Either he hadn’t killed the bird and that was _bad_ , since he was a demon and was supposed to like bloodshed, especially meaningless bloodshed. Or he had killed the bird and that was _worse_ because Cas was a human and humans really did not like meaningless bloodshed, or bloodshed of any kind. Either way, Dean had done something wrong and the bloodshed, there was too little, or too much, or—

“Dean.”

When his eyes found Cas’, he saw them in full color, their blue calming him some.

“I didn’t kill it,” he whispered, bracing himself for the punishment but finding that he was proud of himself for being able to admit the truth, as it were.

“I believe you,” Cas said solemnly and turned to Dean, putting his other hand on Dean’s other shoulder. They were warm and big, grounding in a way Dean liked. “It probably flew into the shed’s window, it happens. Usually they don’t die from that, but it might have hit it at a bad angle and snapped its own neck. It’s okay,” he smiled reassuringly, ducking his head to catch Dean’s eyes. “Thank you for finding it, you did well, Dean.”

“I… I did?”

Cas’ smile grew and he got to his feet, walking over to the shed. “You did. If you hadn’t found it some cat could have instead and started eating it.”

(Like you thought of. You’re like a cat, Deanmon)

“But…” Dean remained sitting by the bird as Cas went into the shed, coming out in the next moment with a shovel and some garden gloves. “Wouldn’t that be good?”

“Would what be good?” Cas asked, putting on the gloves.

“If, um…” Dean glanced down at the bird, Sammy thankfully silent. “If the cat was hungry…”

That made Cas pause and when Dean glanced up at him, the man was regarding Dean with those searching eyes again.

“I think, generally speaking, if a regular house cat ate a wild bird it would maybe get sick. Birds aren’t ideal food for pets, I think,” Cas smiled gently at Dean. “Or anyone. I think it would be better if we buried it and let it become part of the earth again.”

Dean mulled that over as Cas bent down and picked up the bird by its wing, carrying it over to the edge of the woods. He followed slowly as Cas started digging and came to stand beside the little hole, looking down at the darkness.

“Doesn’t that make it meaningless?” Dean peeked shyly up at Cas when the man stopped digging. “The death.”

“It’s the circle of life,” Cas said simply, and then offered up a new smile when Dean no doubt looked dubious. “If it comforts you, this bird will feed worms and insects in the ground, and it will fertilize the soil. It’s a sad death but in the grand scheme of things it’s not as unnecessary as it feels.”

(He means that no one cares about a dead fucking bird, Deanmon)

Dean watched with black eyes as Cas kneeled and carefully put the little bird in the hole and started filling it again.

“If I died…” he mumbled, embarrassed about his own thoughts before he’d even finished articulating them.

(Don’t fucking kid yourself, Deanmon)

“If _I_ died,” Dean started again, voice louder and more certain but he still didn’t know how to finish his question, afraid of the answer.

“If you died, I would cry,” Cas said without looking away from what he was doing. “I would cry, and I would curse the injustice, and I would put you in a much nicer grave with a proper tombstone,” he sat back on his heels, looking up at Dean with a soft expression. “And the tombstone would read ‘Here lies Dean, the best demon Castiel ever knew’, and I would put fresh flowers by it every day.”

Surprisingly, that answer made Dean’s whole body tingle, the way it did when he was feeling good, and he squirmed in place. He offered up a small smile in response, and ducked his head when Cas winked at him before going back to work on filling the grave properly.

Despite Sammy’s protests, Dean walked a bit into the woods, searching for a moment before coming back with a broken off piece of bark. Cas glanced at it when Dean kneeled beside the grave and then he gave Dean a huge smile when he saw what Dean attempted, blinding Dean with its beauty.

He got to his feet and with the help of the shovel he made a little hole so Dean could wedge the bark in it to make it stand at the head of the grave. Dean felt odd pride at the sight and when he was bombarded by Sammy’s snide remarks Dean ignored him again, content with how this made him feel. He was immensely glad he hadn’t eaten the bird.

(Yes, you make a fine human, Deanmon)

Dean knew he shouldn’t, because that was clearly an insult, but he felt happy to hear that.

“That was a nice thing you did, Dean,” Cas said then, further assuring Dean that he indeed deserved to feel happy about himself. “What do you say we go inside and wash off and then make some dinner, hm?”

Dean nodded. “Can we have something with meat?”

“Yes,” Cas agreed, slipping off his gloves. “I’ve been thinking of making chicken pot—”

“No, I mean,” Dean looked up at Cas, his eyes displaying everything in vivid color. “Not bird, some other meat.”

Cas looked surprised for a moment and then his expression smoothed out into something fond and soft.

“I have ground beef, we’ll make hamburgers.”

Dean’s stomach twisted with hunger just hearing that and he grinned widely up at Cas. “I want meat instead of buns.”

“You want three burgers stacked on top of each other?” Cas laughed out loud when Dean nodded seriously. “Sure, little demon. Anything you want.”

(Not _anything_ , though)

Dean ignored Sammy’s scorn and jumped happily to his hooves, only to almost trample on the bird’s grave and consequently trip in his haste to avoid the grave. He crashed right into Cas, who put out his arm to catch Dean and nearly lost his balance himself. He clung to Cas, breathing harshly from being surprised—

(Startled)

—and accidentally pulled in Cas’ scent. The man smelled good. He always did, in Dean’s opinion, but today after a long day at work he smelled even better for some reason. In the morning, Cas usually put on what he called cologne, if he was going out for work. And though it initially smelled very strongly to Dean’s sensitive nose, he liked the subtle hint of it now, and how it blended with Cas’ natural scent.

Without really thinking about it, he’d put his nose against the place where Cas’ neck met his shoulder and breathed in deeply. He liked to do that when they slept too but then it was more accidental or circumstantial, in a way. This time it was deliberate, even though Dean was barely aware of what he was doing at first. But the moment the pleasure he felt in his groin registered in his brain, Dean pulled away from Cas’ neck.

The man was looking a little dazed himself, blinking down at Dean as if he’d just woken from a dream.

(He’s yours to take, Deanmon)

Sammy’s voice was soft and encouraging, edging Dean on. Dean squirmed in Cas’ arms, pressing his legs together and feeling his balls and sheath tingle. Slowly, without a thought in his mind, Dean poked out his tongue and licked along his lips, feeling immense satisfaction flood his senses when he noticed Cas’ eyes tracking the motion.

(Only yours)

Yes, maybe Cas could be? Maybe he could hold Dean, kiss him and touch him like a lover would? Like a _human_ lover would.

Dean bit his lower lip against a small sound when images of Cas embracing him tighter came to mind. He arched his back a little, whole stance open and inviting and Cas’ hands on Dean’s body flexed, fingers digging in. Just a tilt of Cas’ head, a stretch of Dean’s neck, and they could be kissing, and Dean wanted it.

(Do it! Claim him! Own him!)

The urgency in Sammy’s voice made Dean jerk back. He didn’t want that, didn’t want Cas to be… to be a mindless thing. He wanted Cas to be Cas, and yet still be Dean’s. Dean didn’t know the difference exactly, nor how he could accomplish either thing. But he knew that the difference was important and that he only wanted the second option.

Dean’s sudden motion seemed to wake Cas up from whatever trance he was in and the human stepped back, shaking his head slightly and blinking his eyes, rubbing one hand over his face.

“Well then,” he said, his voice so rough he had to clear it twice. “You didn’t hurt yourself, right? When you tripped.”

“N-no,” Dean mumbled, still trying to shake the vestiges of the emotions Cas’ scent and presence had invoked in him. Still trying to force Sammy to quiet his angry ranting. “I’m fine.”

“Good, that’s good,” Cas rubbed his hand over his face once more before bending down and picking up the shovel and his gloves where he’d dropped them earlier. He gave Dean one last look, seemingly uncertain of something, and then nodded to the house. “Then you get inside and start readying the kitchen, I’m just gonna put these back.”

Dean hummed in agreement, nodding for good measure, and started back to the house.

(You’re so fucking pathetic, Deanmon. Cas could’ve been your slave by now)

“I don’t want that,” Dean snapped angrily under his breath just as he entered the house.

Firstly, he didn’t even know how he could have made Cas his slave, was that even a thing? And secondly, he really didn’t want that.

(You want him to be yours, though)

“That’s not the same.”

Dean didn’t care what Sammy said because it wasn’t the same. It _wasn’t_.


	5. “Love may be blind but it’s also unapologetic.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi y'all! I'm back with another chapter in Cas' pov (yes, I will be changing every other chapter for this fic lol) and in this one we learn a few things about how Cas thinks and feels, and we'll hear more about Sammy.  
> Also, Balthazar! 🥳  
> I hope you'll have fun 💖💖💖

“Did you feel it?”

Balthazar closed the patio door behind himself, looking at Castiel with wide eyes. Oh, he’d felt it alright.

“He’s… he’s safe to leave with Bones, right?”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “I sincerely doubt Dean has any interest in fornicating with your dog,” he said dryly and poured coffee for his friend, gesturing for him to join Castiel by the dining room table where they could observe Dean and Balthazar’s golden retriever, Bones, play in the backyard.

Balthazar was one of Castiel’s oldest colleagues in the field of Cryptozoology and since a few years back also a professor at the same university where Castiel taught the one class he was mandated to teach so that the university would keep funding his own personal research. Balthazar, unlike Castiel, had held several classes for many years but had this year taken a leave of absence to pursue a trail of Bunyips in Australia. Consequently, he’d been away for most of Castiel’s encounter with Dean but as soon as his friend contacted him saying he was in the States again, Castiel had called him over.

That he’d brought with him his old dog was a pleasant surprise, more so for Dean than anyone, who seemed ecstatic to meet the animal.

“The other day Dean found a dead bird in the yard,” Castiel said after a moment of watching Dean figure out how to play fetch, after Bones’ gentle instructions and nudges. “He was very adamant that he hadn’t killed it, and when I wanted to bury it, he asked if that would make the death meaningless.”

Balthazar seemed to positively itch to take notes and Castiel couldn’t blame him. For all of the joy Dean’s company brought Castiel, he couldn’t deny that he too felt an almost urgent need to document every new find about the little demon. That he’d changed the topic of his latest paper from general theological cryptids to involving almost nothing but demons were no surprise to him.

“How curious,” Balthazar mumbled, eyes trained on Dean. “It must be his human side, that makes him different. Don’t you think?”

“Different than most demons? Absolutely.”

Outside, Dean was throwing the stick he’d found as soon as Bones brought it back. And Bones, despite his age, kept up surprisingly well with Dean’s youthful enthusiasm.

“And of course I felt… felt _it_. His mother—was it his mother?” Balthazar nodded when Castiel did. “She must have been a powerful succubus.”

Castiel nodded again. “Do you believe me when I say I don’t think he knows of it himself? Or if he does, he doesn’t know how to control his powers.”

He waited in suspense for Balthazar’s answer and didn’t realize until his friend met his eyes that he was holding his breath.

“I do,” Balthazar said seriously and Castiel let out his breath, slowly. “I would go so far as to say he’s completely unaware of the power he yields over humans.”

“That makes me feel better,” Castiel mumbled, looking down into his coffee mug.

“He caught you in his web, didn’t he?” Balthazar’s tone was lightly teasing but there was a serious edge to it and Castiel winced, having expected as much. But he needed to consult with his friend, someone more knowledgeable about this than him and he would have to deal with the consequences, if any.

“He did,” Castiel looked up, a small apologetic smile playing on his lips. “I don’t know what it is, but there’s something about him… more than the succubus pheromones. I can… I can _feel_ when they’re pulling me in, and I like it, but I can also feel when they’re not and I like that almost more. It’s… different.”

Balthazar nodded, to Castiel’s relief. “Of course you’d be affected by the pheromones, but you feel like there’s something there even when it’s just him? Only Dean and not the demon?”

“Yes!” Castiel exclaimed, slumping in his seat, almost sagging. He hadn’t even known this was weighing on him until he felt that his feelings were validated. “There’s something to him. An innocence that’s… There’s this sense of childishness to him and that’s not attractive to me, don’t get me wrong. But the innocence, it makes me feel protective and I want to hold him close and…”

“And then he looks at you with those bedroom eyes.”

Castiel looked at his friend, eyes almost pleading. “Am I in the wrong?”

“Not at all,” Balthazar sipped his coffee. “You want to take care of him, and he wants to be taken care of by you, and you live together in close quarters. I think anyone in a similar situation would react similarly.”

“But he’s half-demon.”

“Ah yes,” Balthazar grinned to himself. “Then perhaps not just _anyone_ would react as you do. But it’s safe to say that at least _I_ understand you.”

“I don’t…” Castiel looked out at Dean, who looked dirty and happy as he ran around the yard with Bones, as if racing the dog. “I don’t want to take advantage of his vulnerability.”

“Well in that regard we could be just as concerned about him taking advantage of you because of his succubusness.”

That made Castiel laugh out loud. “That’s not a word.”

“No but I made you laugh,” Balthazar said, smug. “Look, I know you’re a serious guy, Cassie. Everyone knows that. But please don’t beat yourself up for being attracted to Dean, or even interested in him.”

“Only a fellow Cryptozoologist would say that,” Castiel mumbled, smiling fondly. “I mean, he has… he has _goat_ legs. It’s practically bestiality.”

“Well,” Balthazar was _clearly_ trying not to laugh. “We’ve all got different tastes,” he let out a short laughter when Castiel grimaced at him. “Look, he’s not an actual animal or even a faun, demons are different. And truly, he’s very beautiful.”

“You’re much too understanding,” Castiel said, but Balthazar’s words were actually making him feel better. “And encouraging.”

Balthazar snorted and reached over, patting Castiel on his arm before turning his attention to the yard again. Dean and Bones were still playing, Dean seeming as full of energy as the dog and as uncaring of the cold November winds even as he ran around nude as always and with a nose red from the chill.

“Do you know who the father is?” Balthazar asked when Castiel had refilled their coffee mugs and put out some cookies.

“Not at all,” Castiel admitted with a little sigh. “Truth be told I don’t know much about Dean’s past at all. Except that he seems to have been abused and for one reason or another either refuses to or can’t return to Hell. I want to ask so many things, but I can’t make myself force him to relive painful memories.”

“You’re hoping he will tell you,” Balthazar said in a kind tone. “Given time he might.”

“Or maybe it doesn’t even matter,” Castiel said, feeling a little morose. “The point is that he’s here now and who he was in the past shouldn’t matter.”

“Unless it comes back to haunt him, you should guard yourself.”

Castiel squirmed in his seat, uncomfortable. “I have updated the wards on my house.”

“That’s a good start.”

A bark from outside drew their attention for a moment but it only seemed as if Bones was calling on Dean to toss the stick he was holding. Castiel had been very clear about Dean not taking Bones into the woods and he couldn’t help but smile now that he saw the little demon carefully aim his throw away from the woods and into the yard instead.

“He’s quick to learn,” he heard himself say, his tone far prouder than was appropriate.

Balthazar didn’t remark on that, though. “How old is he?”

“125,” Castiel said, thinking back on a conversation he’d had with Dean about the demon’s age. “Or thereabout, he seemed unsure.”

“So he’s definitely mature, I was wondering considering how small his horns are. Though I suppose with the lack of wings and him being a Cambion anything goes.”

Castiel felt an irrational need to defend Dean’s horns, which he found very endearing and proportionate to Dean’s head. He shook his head at himself, smiling slightly.

“How old does that make him in human years? 20?”

Balthazar hummed, eyes trained on the serene scene outside for a moment. “Quick math would probably suggest closer to 22 or 23 if he’s truly 125. But I suppose all we can say for sure is that he should _at least_ have the psychological and physical maturity of an 18 year-old human male.”

Castiel sighed deeply, drawing his friend’s attention. “Maybe that should make me feel better, considering what we just talked about, but it barely does. I’m almost 40, Balth.”

That made Balthazar grin unexpectedly. “So you fancy an 18 year-old man with goat legs and horns, so what? There have been _far_ worse matches in history. Love may be blind but it’s also unapologetic, and I think that’s one of its best features.”

Castiel couldn’t explain it, but his friend’s instant acceptance of Castiel’s feelings almost moved him to tears. In all honest he hadn’t thought this had weighed as much on him as he realized now that the weight lifted. He cleared his throat but neither of them spoke more on the matter, instead watching Dean and Bones play.

“I didn’t think demons could actually get pregnant by humans,” he stated after a moment’s silence, the change in topic doubly welcomed since it was a question he’d contemplated for a while. “I was actually surprised to see a half-breed, and even more so when I read up on it. It’s always sounded like a myth to me.”

“It’s rare,” Balthazar admitted and Castiel looked away from the scene outside to study his friend’s face instead. “I believe research states that demons, succubi, are only fertile once during their lifespan and that they’re the only demonkind that can get pregnant by literally _anything_.”

Castiel thought that over for a second before shuddering. “There must be all kinds of half-breeds lumbering around in the depths of Hell.”

Balthazar grinned. “What a sight to behold, right?”

Castiel, who had spent many years out in the field observing and learning firsthand, felt his skin crawl.

“In contrast, a blend between a human and demon seems the more seamless one.”

“And yet the most hated, amongst demons,” Balthazar shrugged when Castiel looked at him with astonishment. “I would think. For one, demons and devils have been hunted by humans for a long time so I would imagine the hate for humans run deep. And more than that, just think, a live Cambion, how powerful mustn’t he be? What if he sided with the humans, what then of the demons?” Balthazar shook his head, his smile sad. “Better to kill it in its infancy before it becomes a threat, right?”

Castiel felt struck by the images of Dean’s beaten and battered body. “Like the angels fear the Nephilim,” he mumbled. “Demons too…”

“It’s a wonder he’s even alive, if you think about it,” Balthazar noted, tone much more professional than Castiel felt. “Or perhaps it’s _because_ of his heritage that he’s alive.”

“And why he’s not in Hell; why he’s so sensitive about not being a full demon.”

Balthazar nodded slowly. “You think they kicked him out when they couldn’t kill him? Yes, that seems plausible. Oh, Cassie,” he reached over and grabbed Castiel’s arm, the same he had patted. “Don’t worry.”

“Is it that obvious?” Castiel chuckled at himself, shaking his head. “I can’t help it, considering everything and considering what we spoke of before. My feelings, I…”

“I know,” Balthazar smiled kindly. “I know.”

Castiel offered up a surprisingly wobbly smile but before he could say anything more to embarrass himself, Dean and Bones tumbled into the house, both grinning widely.

“Bones is hungry,” Dean announced when both Balthazar and Castiel looked at him and he took a few steps inside in his excitement before he stopped short and backtracked to the patio door where Castiel kept a towel for him to clean off his hooves.

“Is that right?” Balthazar asked, pushing out his chair so that he could welcome Bones to his side and pat the dog. Bones’ tail flopped happily from side to side and he panted loudly, eyes trained on his master. “Did he tell you that?”

“No,” Dean snorted as if the mere notion that he could speak with animals was absurd. Honestly, in the light of what Castiel and Balthazar had discussed, it didn’t seem so far-fetched to him. “But I, ah,” he scratched his stomach, looking to the side. “I could tell anyway.”

Castiel and Balthazar shared a look, amused.

“Well, we’re not having dinner yet, but we do have cookies,” Castiel said, tipping the box for Dean to see. “Not for Bones, though.”

Dean inched closer, eyes trained on the box and Castiel couldn’t in that moment find anything evil or demon-like in the little creature’s demeanor. Dean was so sweet to his eyes, even after having witnessed Dean’s contained power not once but three times already.

“Maybe…” Dean slid slowly onto the chair next to Castiel’s. “Maybe Bones can eat later?”

Bones was already resting by Balthazar’s feet and Castiel shared another amused look with his friend before he opened the box for Dean.

“It’s oatmeal raisin, your favorite.”

Favorite so far, would probably have been more accurate because Dean hadn’t had that many cookies during his stay with Castiel, not yet. But the little demon’s eyes flicked to reveal his human ones and they shone with happiness as he dug into the treat. Castiel had honestly never seen anyone who liked oatmeal raisin as much as Dean, all he remembered from his childhood were his friends hating the flavor. 

“Do you like a lot of human food?” Balthazar asked after a moment of just watching Dean stuff his face. 

Dean had a way of eating that was simultaneously adorable and heart-breaking. He tended to stuff his cheeks, chewing very fast, and swallowing in big chunks. As if he were afraid the food would be taken away if he weren’t fast enough. And while it looked cute (and hilarious), the implications still made Castiel’s heart hurt and he had taken to cooking too much food, just to ensure Dean could have his fill. 

“So far—” Dean started, mouth full, but he stopped himself, eyes shooting to Castiel’s. Castiel met the demon’s gaze seriously and Dean made a show of swallowing his mouthful. “So far everything has been awesome.”

Balthazar blinked at the exchange and then chuckled when Castiel nodded at Dean, smiling approvingly. His silent praise made the demon squirm happily in his seat and Castiel felt the by now familiar trail of Dean’s succubus pheromones wrapping around his senses. 

He never really knew what would trigger it, but he had once sat down and tried to catalogue all the different interactions that had prompted Dean’s releases and the conclusion had been somewhat startling. To put it short, if Dean had been a regular human, Castiel would by now be pretty certain that Dean was interested (at least physically) in him and was maybe even trying to flirt with him. Considering Castiel’s own supposed feelings towards the little creature, this discovery had been both a happy one and one he took very lightly, as he suspected his own emotions could color his logic. 

But whatever the case, there was no denying that he enjoyed making Dean happy, pheromones or not.

“We’re going to Gabe’s next week, for Thanksgiving,” he said to Balthazar as Dean gulped down another three cookies in one go. It had been evident to Castiel very early that Dean definitely could eat more than a human, and maybe even required to.

“Oh what a treat,” Balthazar exclaimed. “Your brother is an excellent cook.”

“Join us, if you’re inclined.”

Dean watched the two of them carefully, while chewing on his cookies. Castiel knew this not because he met the demon’s eyes but because he felt the gaze on him like a living thing. Dean’s eyes were very electric, whether it was the demon or the human ones. 

“I’m tempted,” Balthazar nodded, taking out his phone and checking his calendar. “I’ll call Gabriel tonight.”

“Gabriel said he would make a pie for me,” Dean piped up and it only struck Castiel then that Dean was feeling left out of the conversation.

He wasn’t, of course, not by any means, but he had probably gotten used to having Castiel’s undivided attention on him. Castiel couldn’t say how he knew that, but he felt it, deep inside him, how Dean longed for him and he turned to look at the demon with big eyes, surprised. 

“That’s great,” Balthazar said with enthusiasm, completely oblivious of Castiel’s realization, thank God. “I’m sure you’ll like it, if it’s one thing Gabriel knows it’s dessert.” 

Dean hummed thoughtfully and before he could think about it (was barely aware of moving at all), Castiel had reached over and gripped the demon’s chin lightly, brushing his thumb over the crumbs on the side of Dean’s mouth. One swipe and he had brought them to Dean’s lips. Plump, soft lips that parted just beautifully for Castiel’s wayward thumb. 

Dean licked it, almost dutifully, and Castiel felt a spike of desire go through him, so sharp it hurt. It pooled in his groin and he turned more towards Dean, exchanging his thumb for two of his fingers, pushing in deeper into Dean’s heat and feeling the demon’s tongue snake around his fingers as it would his dick. He felt around the mouth, the sharp incisors, the ridged roof of the mouth, and that _tongue_ , fingers getting coated in saliva as Dean relaxed his jaw, taking more of Castiel without problems, eyes hazed over as if in a daze. 

“Castiel.”

Balthazar’s voice broke through the veil of desire that coursed through him and by the sound of it, his friend had tried to get his attention for a while. Castiel immediately (but slowly as not to hurt Dean) pulled out and away, ashamed of his own behavior and how aroused he was. Dean sat swaying on his chair, eyes still unfocused and when Castiel looked apologetically at Balthazar he couldn’t help but notice how aroused his friend also seemed. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, realizing only now how much of Dean’s pheromones were actually in the air around them. “I... I don’t know what I…”

“I know,” Balthazar surprised Castiel by grinning widely. “This is extraordinary.”

To be quite honest Castiel wasn’t so sure he was comfortable sitting here having a discussion with his friend while his erection strained in his pants, but his curiosity won over. That, and the fact that Balthazar was erect as well, which made it less embarrassing somehow. 

“How so?”

“How he reacted to your touch, certainly that must mean he’s at least unable to control his powers. And more than that, how you—how _we_ reacted to him, and how Bones did _not_.”

Castiel stretched his neck to look at the dog. Bones was on his side, seemingly sleeping peacefully by Balthazar’s left foot. 

“So it only works on humans?” Castiel said, both with astonishment but also no small amount of relief. If Dean was unaware or at least not in control of his own powers, then the use of them became far less sinister. And maybe, just maybe, Castiel could be excused for falling for the endearing demon, just as Dean’s affections for him might actually be real. He had to force himself to calm down, surprised at his own enthusiasm at the idea. “But I thought you said there’s been research about half-breeds in Hell?”

“Well, it could be that it works on humans and other cryptids but not regular animals?” Balthazar suggested, eyes shining with curiosity as he watched Dean on the opposite side of the table. “Or maybe because he’s…” he tipped his head and Castiel nodded, no need to say the words “half human” out loud and make Dean upset. “Maybe that has an effect?”

“That would certainly be interesting,” Castiel mumbled, eyes shifting over to Dean, who seemed to be collecting himself. All he wanted to do in that moment was kiss the little demon and hold him tight. Protect him. “Balth, I don’t want this to come out.”

“No? Cassie, you can’t keep findings like this to yourself, you—oh,” Balthazar’s eyes turned kind. “You meant _him_? Yes, I’m with you there, we don’t want experimentations.”

“I’m writing a paper; I invite you to do the same.”

It was the best Castiel could do. He refused to let Dean become a science experiment, but his professional side couldn’t let a find like this go unnoticed either. Scientific articles and papers with Dean labelled “Subject A” seemed the safe option by far. 

“I would love to, Cassie,” Balthazar said with enthusiasm, his tone both happy and humbled, which made Castiel feel like he had made the right choice. 

“Subtly, though,” Castiel warned and Balthazar nodded. Yes, no overt scientific experiments would be conducted on Dean. Not in a lab somewhere and not in Castiel’s living room, not if Castiel could prevent it. 

Both of their attentions were pulled by Dean then, when the demon inadvertently made a ruckus breaking open the cookie box to see if there was any left. There wasn’t, and the box had been almost full when Castiel brought it out. 

“Still hungry?” he smiled, relieved that his arousal had abated enough for him to act normal again. 

Dean fidgeted, not one to so easily admitting to a weakness such as hunger. “Why? Are you?”

Castiel smiled to himself at Dean’s cheekiness. “Might be that I’m starting to feel a little peckish.”

“Well then I—” Dean said, almost vigorously, but then stopped himself, looking to the side. “No, Sammy…” he mumbled, cheeks heating.

Castiel had heard Dean mumbled to himself before and though he’d registered it in the back of his mind because most things about Dean registered on some level, he hadn’t given it much thought. He himself was prone to talking to himself, especially when alone, and he knew a lot of people who did. This was, however, the first time he had heard any actual words, and for that to be a name put him on alert. 

His eyes shot to Balthazar, and the way his friend met his gaze ensured Castiel that Balthazar had heard it too, and that he was bemused as well. 

“Dean?” Balthazar said, carefully but kindly. “Who’s Sammy?”

Dean jerked in his seat, cowering down, and ducking his head. Leaning closer, Castiel could see that Dean had scrunched up his eyes as well, as if waiting for an incoming blow. He did that a lot, and it was yet another thing that made Castiel’s heart hurt.

He threw Balthazar a quick look and stood to pull his chair closer to Dean’s. Balthazar snapped his fingers, waking Bones, who looked up at his master and then immediately got to his feet when Balthazar pointed at Castiel. The dog trotted obediently around the table and Castiel guided him to Dean’s other side. Ever the perceptive animal, Bones put his head in Dean’s lap and looked up at the demon with watery, brown eyes.

Dean let out a little gasp at the touch but thankfully it seemed to pull him out of his shell, and he looked down at Bones with human eyes, a trembling hand coming up to carefully pet Bones’ silky head.

“Dean,” Castiel said softly, sitting next to the demon and putting his arm on the back of Dean’s chair. “Is Sammy hurting you?”

“No,” Dean mumbled, eyes still trained on Bones. “Sam was the pretty demon I used to live with.”

Okay, that cleared up some of Castiel’s questions, but also only added more. “Did he…?” he didn’t know where to start.

“Where is Sammy now?” Balthazar cut in when Castiel couldn’t sort his thoughts.

Dean drew a deep sigh and when he looked up at them it was with his demon eyes. “He’s dead. They killed him. They came when we were sleeping and-and there were a lot of them and Sammy got angry and…” he trailed off, pressing the heel of his hand against his temple, so hard it made him sway in his seat and Castiel had to gently pry it away.

“Don’t hurt yourself, it makes me sad,” he murmured, and Dean looked at him with big eyes. “Tell me what happened. Who attacked you?”

“I…” Dean’s eyes unfocused, the black melting away in a way Castiel had never seen, but then Dean blinked, and it was back again. “There were a lot of demons. Sammy was strong but they were too many, I think. They killed him and they beat me, I think they wanted to kill me too. But they didn’t. They told me to leave instead.”

Castiel looked at Balthazar and it was clear his friend was thinking the same thing he was. This was exactly as they had speculated not twenty minutes ago. Being a Cambion, Dean was most likely stronger than those who had attacked him and even if he wasn’t in complete control of his own succubus powers he would still be more resilient and have better healing, so killing him with conventional means would be incredibly tough for a regular demon.

“I’m glad you escaped,” Castiel murmured, brushing the tips of his fingers against Dean’s shoulder. As if sensing something was up, Bones turned his head in that moment, pressing his nose against Dean’s stomach so that the little demon would start scratching his head again.

“How long ago was this?” Balthazar asked and if Castiel hadn’t known his friend as well as he did, he wouldn’t have noticed the change in his tone, but he did. And it told him that Balthazar had realized something, perhaps even something important, more than interesting.

“I dunno exactly,” Dean answered, his sweet brow knotting in thought. “A while? Years.”

“Around the time you matured?”

“Mh,” Dean nodded, expression serious when he looked up to meet Balthazar’s eyes. “The same day.”

Castiel came to two realizations in that moment. The first was the one Balthazar probably had already reached, namely that the demons had chosen to attack around Dean’s 100th birthday since that would mean he would be mature enough to use his succubus powers to their fullest and that that scared the demons. Most likely were they afraid he would use his powers against them, since they would be powerless to stop it. A regular succubus would want to mate around the time of their maturity, since it was their one and only chance, and they would use their powers to draw in another demon, who probably wouldn’t mind breeding with them. But no one wanted to breed with a Cambion, Castiel was sure.

The second realization was that if this _did_ happen around his 100th birthday and Dean was about 125 now, he had probably been alone up here on Earth for almost 25 years and just the thought was enough for Castiel to almost lose his breath. Dean was so affectionate and cuddly (for the lack of a better word) so just the mere thought of him not only being robbed of that, as he certainly had been in Hell, but also being robbed of _any_ kind of company was truly soul-crushing.

“Oh, Dean,” he said, unable to keep his overwhelming emotions out of his voice and the sound made Dean look at him with wide demon eyes. “Whatever happened down there, you’re safe here with me now.”

That made Dean grin wide enough to show his incisors. “I’m a demon, Cas. I’m strong, I’ll take care of _you_.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel mumbled, thinking that the demon hadn’t truly understood what he meant by his words.

Didn’t understand that Castiel meant for Dean to be emotionally safe, rather than physically. Physically, Castiel was more than sure that Dean was capable of taking care of himself, but his mental state was clearly in question if he went about talking to voices in his head that sounded like his dead friend.

Later, as Balthazar was leaving and Dean was outside in the frontyard, getting some last minutes of play with Bones, his friend turned to Castiel with a serious look.

“Listen, Cassie,” he gently grabbed Castiel’s elbow, pulling him in closer. “I want you to be careful. Dean doesn’t seem harmful to me, but unintentionally he could be dangerous to you.”

“I have considered this as well,” Castiel confessed in a low tone, eyes unfocused as he remembered Dean’s very first visit to Castiel’s backyard.

“I don’t think it’s normal for demons to have something whisper in their ear and I—”

“We don’t know that it’s something malignant controlling his thoughts,” Castiel snapped, tone sharper than he had intended and he reeled in his protective feelings when Balthazar looked almost pityingly at him.

“I’m not so sure the alternative is better,” he said seriously, softly. “I trust your logical side to protect you but please forgive me for making preparations.”

“For an exorcism?” Castiel balked but Balthazar’s grip on his elbow tightened so he couldn’t step away. “You can’t be serious.”

“Can’t I?” Balthazar sighed, looking older in his sudden apprehension. “I pray we will never have to use it, but it’s better to be prepared.”

That famous logical side of Castiel understood perfectly, even though Castiel found his heart constricting with pain.

“I will never forgive you if Dean ever finds out about the preparations and leaves.”

Balthazar’s lips twitched, as if he were about to smile or cry, and then he pulled Castiel into a crushing hug.

“Deal.”

Castiel hugged him back, a little confused by the unusual display of emotions but grateful for his friend’s concern and affection all the same.

“Don’t forget to call Gabriel,” Castiel said as he and Balthazar joined Bones and Dean outside.

Bones happily bounced up to his master, tongue lolling out of his open mouth and his eyes shining. Dean, similarly, rushed up to Castiel but unlike Bones, Dean stopped just out of reach and fidgeted. Castiel gave the little demon an intimate smile, fingers itching to run through Dean’s hair, to pet him and to hug him, not like he and Balthazar had hugged but as…

“Is that friend of yours coming?” Balthazar said as he struggled with getting Bones into the car. The old dog was “helping” by flailing his legs all over the place. “The woman, Melany?”

“You mean Meg?” Castiel saw in the corner of his eye how Dean’s mouth twisted but the demon didn’t say anything. “No, I haven’t spoken to her in a while. You’ll have to ask Gabe, but I hardly doubt it.”

That wasn’t entirely true, he had spoken with Meg since their falling out and they had had lunch last week while Castiel was at work. It was safe to say that while they were back to being friends, Meg was still miffed about Castiel’s blatant refusal of her advances and Castiel was still miffed about her refusal to apologize to Dean. Their friendship had survived, in a manner, but it would hardly ever be the same.

“Good,” Balthazar said, straightening and almost panting from the effort of getting Bones into his cage. “I never really liked her, you know.”

Castiel wasn’t the least surprised to hear that, Meg was after all an acquired taste.

“She kissed Cas,” Dean piped up in that moment because of course he did.

Castiel had never really been embarrassed about his sex life and despite approaching 40 and not having a steady relationship he was happy the way he was. But in that moment, he actually felt shame, as if allowing Dean to witness that was something bad. Which, thinking back to the incident, it had been.

“Oh that’s right,” Balthazar laughed and slammed shut the car door. “You were like _that_.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “It was a while ago…”

“They’re not anymore, though,” Dean stated with that strangely authoritative voice he sometimes spoke in.

Usually, his tone was low and cautious, sometimes even childish when he encountered something new that he enjoyed. But _sometimes_ Dean spoke in a voice that made Castiel think of dark and delicious and _forbidden_ things.

“Is that so?” Balthazar mumbled, looking at the demon with eyes that told Castiel his friend had heard and appreciated that edge in Dean’s voice as well.

It was Dean’s succubus side, Castiel had no doubt, and he thought that if he ever were to meet a regular succubus who was well-trained in using their powers, he wouldn’t stand a chance.

 _“Or,”_ he thought as he watched with hooded eyes while Dean and Balthazar bantered about Meg. _“If Dean was to ever come to understand his powers, I would…”_

He had to stop there because merely thinking about it made his blood rush faster. It looked like this would be another night of agony if he didn’t somehow manage to get Dean distracted enough to allow himself a long, guiltfree shower.

Maybe this was the right evening to let Dean cook dinner by himself for the first time…


End file.
